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Chapter Text

“This is not fair,” Xiao Yan Zi grumbled, crossing her arms and pouting at Yong Qi from across the table. 

Yong Qi chuckled. “Well, you said you wanted to play weiqi,” he replied, a slight taunt in his tone and a glimmer in his eyes.

“I wanted to play normal weiqi, not this debaunched version that involves removing layers of clothing,” she retorted, her nose up in the air, gesturing to her state of undress. “I thought you were a respectable, well-mannered prince when I married you, I can’t believe you had the audacity to suggest such an improper game,” she exclaimed haughtily, her expression of mock disdain. 

Yong Qi, who was fully clothed, answered nonchalantly with a determinedly serious expression, “rules are rules, you lost the last game.” His gaze involuntarily flickered down to her blouse. 

“Fine.” Xiao Yan Zi huffed and reached for the top button of her blouse as his eyes swept upon her in anticipation. She stopped abruptly and instead bent down to slowly pull a sock off her foot, smirking purposefully at him. 

Yong Qi groaned a little. “Tease.”

After a couple more rounds, Xiao Yan Zi was left wearing only a very alluring sapphire blue dudou and her inner layer of trousers while Yong Qi was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the game. Xiao Yan Zi, however, was still absorbed, her brows furrowed in concentration, her hand clutching a black stone as her large eyes darted around the board.

Yong Qi exhaled unsteadily as she pushed herself up from her seating position and bent forwards to survey the board better, her long hair sweeping away to reveal her bare shoulders and collarbone. He rose from his seat and moved over to her on the other side of the table. 

“My love, I'm afraid you’re still not going to win wherever you put that last piece,” he said softly as he bunched her hair away and leaned down to press a kiss to the nape of her neck, tracing tantalising lines down her bare back with his finger. “I’ve captured you on all sides,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. 

Xiao Yan Zi's breath hitched slightly but she turned her head around to look at him with a resolutely petulant expression. Yong Qi smiled affectionately at her and wrapped his arm around her chest, his eyes radiating desire.

“I can’t believe you tricked me into playing this game,” Xiao Yan Zi replied, still not giving in, although she let his hands work the knot of her dudou before unravelling the string so her garment fell slightly loose. 

He chuckled. “I promise I’ll teach you some strategies tomorrow, okay?” he said as he pulled her up from her chair.  

Xiao Yan Zi gave a surprised gasp as Yong Qi turned her by her waist so she was facing him before pushing her gently against the table. With one sweep, he cleared away the stones and lowered her down against the board, before placing a soft kiss on her cheek, his lips trailing down, while his hands began to roam around her body. 

“Yong Qi,” Xiao Yan Zi exclaimed breathlessly, clutching his shoulders, her chest rising and falling against him. “What are you doing?” 

He raised his head and grinned at her. “Claiming my prize?” 

She slapped him lightly on the head as Yong Qi smiled sheepishly.

“You’re messing up the pieces on the board,” Xiao Yan Zi began seriously, looking sideways at the now haphazard stones scattered around the table.  “I need to count them to see mmph-” he interrupted her sentence as he captured her lips with a heated kiss. 

“Forget about the game. How about I make it up to you?” he murmured, planting kisses on her neck.

She tilted her head as if to ask how. Slowly, he picked up a white piece and ran it down her chest and stomach, the coolness of the stone making Xiao Yan Zi’s body shiver. Then, he tugged at her trousers and kneeled down before her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Her cheeks flushed pink as Yong Qi spread her legs gently before gripping her hips and lowering his head down to her. All manner of conversation ceased and the room was silent except for her soft, delicate moans and the clinking of black and white stones as she clutched the table in sweet pleasure.

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi tossed and turned in the creaking old bed, clutching a hot water bottle and shivering under the covers, trying not to think about her lying, cheating scum of an ex-boyfriend or her publicity campaign for the new movie that was dropping in two days on Lunar New Year's Eve. 

She was increasingly regretting this Airbnb house swap. 

The listing on the website advertised the place as a one-of-a-kind, quaint mansion located in the heart of Beijing and built in the Qing dynasty seeped in rich history, for goodness sake. In reality, it was very cold, damp and dusty with everything falling into disrepair. The howling wind rattling the two hundred year old window shutters did not help with the uneasy feeling she had that the house was haunted. Xiao Yan Zi wished she was back in her condo on sunny Hainan island sipping a cocktail by the pool. 

Suddenly, she heard a very persistent knock at the front door. Who could it be at this hour? She looked at the clock. 9:15pm. God, she was lame. Xiao Yan Zi tip-toed cautiously to the reception hall in her pyjama bottoms and Bambi sweater before opening the door slowly. 

A man was standing in front of her in a black coat with speckles of snow in his hair and a surprised look on his face. A very attractive man. 

He blinked. "Oh, hi. Um, you're not Zi Wei," he said.

"I'm her Airbnb guest, we did a last minute house swap for Lunar New Year," she answered cautiously. 

"Oh, sorry to bother you. I'm Yong Qi, her older brother." 

Chapter Text

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you, I’m going to be working late tomorrow night again,” Yong Qi began apologetically as they sat next to each other at the Li Bai Literary Prize awards ceremony. “I have to go over all these legal contracts with Zhu Ying.”

“Hmmm. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately. Is she pretty?” Xiao Yan Zi asked jokingly. 

“I don't know but Jiu Zhu, her girlfriend, certainly thinks so.”   

“Oh,” she replied, looking sheepish. 

“Yes, oh.” Yong Qi chuckled at her affectionately.

Xiao Yan Zi felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. A girl around seventeen or eighteen was looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Excuse me, are you Xiao Yan Zi?" the girl asked breathlessly. 

"Uh, yes..." she replied slowly.  

"Oh my gosh!" the girl exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "You're my favourite in The Story of Blossom Fairy Love Palace! It's a shame you're only a minor character because I love your scenes the most. I ship you and the prince together so much! I’m interning with my Dad's company so that's why I'm attending this boring event, but I didn't expect there would be celebrities here!" she rattled on excitedly. 

Xiao Yan Zi looked at this girl in surprise. Blossom Fairy Love was her first proper television role that wasn’t a guest spot shot in one day. As it was a small role, she never expected to be recognised in any setting, let alone at Yong Qi’s work event as his plus one. 

"Can I get a photo with you?" the girl asked. 

"Uh, sure!"  

The girl looked delighted and shoved her phone at Yong Qi. "Can you take a photo of us?"   

"Of course," Yong Qi replied, smiling as he took the phone before snapping a photo of the girl with Xiao Yan Zi.   

"Thanks!" The girl looked at Yong Qi. “Are you her boyfriend? Are you an actor too?” 

Cai Xia, the publicity assistant for Palace Publications who was sitting next to them, began to say hurriedly, “um excuse me, this is Ai Zong, he’s not an actor, he’s the Director of-"

Yong Qi raised a hand to interrupt her. 

“Yes, I am her boyfriend. I'm her fiancé actually," he replied, grinning, his eyes crinkling at the new term. 

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi was standing awkwardly by herself in the ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton Beijing sipping on a glass of champagne, already half regretting attending her fifteen year high school reunion.

"Xiao Yan Zi!"

The voice sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Xiao Yan Zi turned around and found herself staring at...

"Yong Qi? Hi," she said breathlessly. 

"Hi." He smiled at her, a smile so genuine and sweet that a flood of memories came rushing back so strong she felt seventeen again. "How are you?" 

"I'm fine. How are you?" 

"I'm fine too." 

Xiao Yan Zi couldn't help but look at him, noting the ways he had changed (his shoulders were broader, his hair looked neater, he was wearing glasses) and the ways that he had stayed the same (his eyes, his smile, the way he said her name).

"You- you look good," she said. 

"You look nice too. You always looked nice in blue," Yong Qi replied with an easy smile without a hint of awkwardness.

Xiao Yan Zi felt her cheeks flush slightly. 

He cleared his throat as silence fell. "So, I guess it's been a while," he said gently.

She nodded. “I think the last time we saw each other was..."

"Zi Wei and Er Kang's wedding. God, has it really been seven years?" 

"You've been in New York for law school and work," Xiao Yan Zi reasoned. She then remembered who else was in New York with him and covertly glanced down at his left finger. "Zi Wei told me that- I'm sorry to hear about you and Zhi Hua…” she began before trailing off. 

Yong Qi shrugged. "It's alright, I'm fine. I guess it wasn't meant to be. Back then and now," he said, offering her a small smile. He took a sip of champagne before asking casually, "are you seeing anyone?" 

Xiao Yan Zi shook her head. A beat of silence filled the air. 

"I can't believe they chose this hotel," he mused. 

"Why?"

His eyes shined at her. "Don't you remember?" he asked, his voice soft. "This is where we had prom. The night we-" 

Xiao Yan Zi's eyes widened. "Oh, of course. The school must have some long-standing corporate discount," she joked.  

"I really enjoyed that night...and that year. With you,” he said, his expression softening, his eyes piercing her.

"Me too.”

He looked at her with such fondness and nostalgia that it made her heart swell. 

"It was nice to see you, Yong Qi.”

"You too, Xiao Yan Zi."

They were standing in the hallway of the hotel bar, after drinks and conversation that had lasted so long they were the only two people left. 

Without thinking, she stepped closer to him, kissing him on the cheek. He smelled of expensive cologne and teenage dreams. 

Yong Qi gripped her arm suddenly and pulled her in, his lips meeting hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, as his hand ran through her hair while the other held onto her waist. The kiss felt both so comfortingly familiar it was like returning home yet at the same time so wildly new and intoxicating that it made her head spin.

"What are we doing?" she gasped after a while, drawing back a little for air, clutching his shirt collar.

"I don't know," he breathed, pulling her closer to him again as he captured her lips in a fevered kiss. "Do you want to get out of here?" he whispered, his breath warm against her. 

She paused to look at him as Yong Qi's brown eyes gazed at her earnestly. 

With a decisive nod, she reached for his hand, surprised to find that after all these years, it still fit into hers perfectly.

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi is 26, Yong Qi is 47 & 27

Xiao Yan Zi was having a bath in her bedroom late one evening, lost in her thoughts, her hands swirling around in the water, when she heard a familiar sound. She turned her head around and saw him standing behind her. 

Yong Qi looked visibly older and for a moment, his eyes looked stunned at the vision before him.  

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," she answered a little breathlessly. 

He walked over and grazed the nape of her neck with his finger. "How old are you?" 

Xiao Yan Zi shivered at the touch. "Twenty-six. You?" 

"Forty-seven." 

"I was just about to call Cai Xia to fetch my robes..." 

Yong Qi smiled at her. "Allow me." Grabbing a towel from nearby, he offered her his hand. 

She took his hand and rose from the water to step out of the wooden tub. For some inexplicable reason, she felt a little shy as Yong Qi's gaze swept upon her. He draped the large towel over her body and wrapped his arms protectively around her so she was pressed close against his chest. He was looking at her with an affectionate smile and she met his gaze with her large eyes, her breath hitching a fraction. 

Xiao Yan Zi wasn't sure why she felt nervous all of a sudden; it wasn't as if he was seeing anything he hadn't seen before. She had met Yong Qi during this stage of his life once or twice, but never in such an intimate setting where she was completely bare to his gaze. He was old enough to look markedly different and quite unfamiliar to her young Yong Qi and the slightly older versions of him (yet still much younger than this version) who had shown up in her bedroom when she had been in various states of undress. 

Suddenly, in one motion, Yong Qi swept her up off her feet into his arms as Xiao Yan Zi gave a surprised gasp and instinctively gathered her arms around his neck as an anchor. He walked over to the bed and gently lowered her down, head resting on the pillow. He then sat on the edge of the bed and peeled open the towel that was covering her to dry her off while at the same time gliding his hands around her body as Xiao Yan Zi looked up at him with wide eyes. 

"Are you okay?" Yong Qi asked gently, caressing her cheek. "You've been quiet." 

He handed her the silk dressing robe that was hanging on the bed as Xiao Yan Zi sat up and pulled it on herself. 

"I'm fine. It's just...you're much older," she blurted out without thinking.

Yong Qi gave a chuckle.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she added. "It's just, you've never been here, in my bedroom, at this age, I mean, we've never..." she trailed off.

Xiao Yan Zi was relieved that he did not look at all offended, although he proceeded to look at her thoughtfully, realising the unsaid words that she was implying.

"I'm sorry if you were not totally comfortable being so close to me just now," he began. "I guess I didn't think about the fact that I've lived with you through the age that you are now, but you've not been with me at the age I am and this might seem strange," he said matter-of-factly with a reassuring expression. "I just want to sit here and spend time with you. Is that alright?" 

She took his hand and edged closer, now getting used to him and feeling more relaxed. "Of course, Yong Qi." 

He smiled back. "So how are things?"

"Oh, fine," Xiao Yan Zi said a little distractedly as she twisted the ribbon on her robe. 

Yong Qi's brows furrowed a fraction as he surveyed her. "What's wrong?"

She met his gaze reluctantly before conceding a small sigh. "You, I mean you in the present, have been rather busy these days. You promised that you were going to come tonight but I guess you must be preoccupied with country matters or- or gone to one of the other palaces," she finished in a small voice, looking down at the floor, seeming even younger than she was.

He gazed her for a moment. Then, comprehension dawned on him as he did a mental calculation and realised this was the year when the new concubines had entered the palace. He remembered how during that time she had tried to hide her clear heartbreak and insecurities but it had been painfully obvious all the same.

Yong Qi grasped her hands. "Xiao Yan Zi, I promise you, I will be here okay? If I could not make it, it would be because of an urgent country matter, not the latter possibility you said. I would never break my promise to you like that. Tonight or ever," he said, his voice low and sincere. 

Xiao Yan Zi gave a small nod. "I know," she answered softly.

She looked at Yong Qi and noted his calm composure, his broad shoulders, the way his eyes pierced her with wisdom and conviction. Without thinking, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He let her kiss him for a moment before grasping her by the waist and matching her movements.

He let out a breath. "Xiao Yan Zi..." 

She broke away and moved further into the bed. With her gaze fixed on his, she undid the ribbon of her dressing robe and pulled out the hairpin that held her hair up so her long locks cascaded down her back. She leaned back on her elbows and looked at him invitingly. 

Xiao Yan Zi saw how Yong Qi's jaw constricted which made her smile in satisfaction. She reached for his hand and guided it to her chest.

"Xiao Yan Zi..." he began again, although he couldn't help but flick open her robe wide to trace lines around the curves of her breasts. She took hold of him by the fabric of his clothes to close the gap between them with a kiss before her hands worked on unbuckling his belt. 

"Xiao Yan Zi," he groaned, planting kisses on her neck and collarbone before pulling back. "You do not mind that I'm much older than you?" he whispered softly and half-jokingly. 

She shook her head slowly. "Perhaps you could...teach me," she said, her tone unserious and a little seductive, her eyelashes fluttering.  

An unmistakable glimmer of deep desire flashed across Yong Qi's eyes. He captured her lips in a fervent kiss before lowering her down onto the bedding, wholeheartedly surrendering to her request. 

Afterwards, Xiao Yan Zi fell into a peaceful slumber before she was awoken by an arm wrapping around her waist. 

She murmured sleepily. "Yong Qi?"

"Did I wake you?" Yong Qi whispered into her hair. 

She turned around to look at him, at her Yong Qi in the present. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here. Sorry I'm so late. I had an urgent Burma matter to attend to," he said earnestly, grazing her forehead. 

Xiao Yan Zi gazed at him, her expression delicate and soft. She sighed contently into his chest.

"You needn't worry. I had company," she trilled. Yong Qi tilted his head. She giggled. "I mean you, silly. The future you, in twenty years."

"Well, good, I'm glad you weren't alone waiting for me." He untucked her blouse and roamed his hand around her stomach before cupping her breast, usually a sign that he wanted her. "So do you still want to..." 

"Oh I don't know, I'm still rather tired from before," she answered mysteriously. 

He pulled back a fraction and propped up his elbow to survey her. "You mean...you were with h- I mean, me?" 

"Mmhmm. It was rather...educational." 

He frowned slightly, trying to work out what she was saying. "You're not implying that he-, that I-, that it was....better?" he asked slowly, his tone slightly incredulous. Xiao Yan Zi tried to stifle a giggle at the indignant expression on his face.

"No, I just meant that it was a bit different, that's all. There were some...new things," she replied with a sly smile, laughing. 

Yong Qi chuckled a little too before a smirk appeared on his face as his eyes gleamed at her. "I think we should put that to the test, shouldn't we? Just exactly who is better?" 

Xiao Yan Zi gave a delighted gasp as he pinned her down and this time, it was her who wholeheartedly gave into his request.

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi was contemplating how she got herself into this ridiculous situation.

She, a top detective in the police force, a tomboy, a feminist, a self-respecting woman allergic to pastels, was in a powder blue body-con dress with an entire can of hairspray and glitter in her hair preparing to go on stage as Miss Beijing in the Miss China beauty pageant. She tried to tell herself it was for the good of the case - they were investigating a potential bomb threat in the competition. 

She turned her head to find that Yong Qi, her police partner, was glancing at her up and down in a way that he had never done so before. 

“I swear to god if you look at me like that again I'm going to kick you where it hurts,” Xiao Yan Zi hissed at him, gritting her teeth. 

The next time she was waiting in the stage wings was for the cultural talent competition portion.

She watched as the friend she had made in the competition, Zi Wei, Miss Shandong, took to the stage to play a faultless rendition of an original composition on her guqin. This was followed by a snotty girl called Zhi Hua, Miss Zhejiang, who painted bamboo leaves on canvas that seemed to sway in the wind while at the same time dancing and swaying her hips (seemingly straight in the direction of Yong Qi to Xiao Yan Zi's inexplicable annoyance). Later, Miss Xinjiang, a slender, shy girl named Han Xiang, performed a graceful dance that had everybody mesmerised. 

Xiao Yan Zi wondered how the audience would react to her act, sword-play while reciting poetry. It certainly wasn't a typical talent in the Miss China competition. To her surprise, the audience clapped and cheered loudly as she brandished her sword. After she had spun in circles, she felt extremely dizzy and her mind went blank. She glanced in a panic to Yong Qi in the stage wings. He made a swishing motion with his arms as the routine came back to her again.

It was only during the live broadcast of the show when the winner, Zi Wei, was announced, that the culprit, with the combined efforts of Xiao Yan Zi and Yong Qi, was finally uncovered and caught. It turned out to be none other than Zhen Huan Huan, a woman in her sixties who was a former failed pageant queen and organiser of the competition. To her surprise, Xiao Yan Zi was voted runner up. 

After Huan Huan was taken away, Xiao Yan Zi stood on the empty stage, taking a breather. Suddenly, a hand gripped on her shoulder. Raising a fist, she instinctively swirled around and punched the figure squarely in the face.

"Ow!" Yong Qi yelled, clutching his face, the force knocking him backwards a step.

"Oh my god, sorry! I thought it was-"

"She's beauty, she's grace, she'll punch you in the face," he said jokingly, still rubbing his jaw but looking at her with an easy smile as she looked sheepishly back at him. 

"Look, I didn't get a chance to say thank you, for earlier," she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "If you weren't there, I might've not..."

"That's what partners are for. You were great," he replied. "You- you fight good," he added, but it felt like it wasn't what he had wanted to say. 

"Well, thanks. Again. Um, see you later," she answered awkwardly before walking away. 

"Xiao Yan Zi. Wait." She turned around. "Would you like to go get a drink? Perhaps after you've changed into something more comfortable?" he asked, gesturing to her floor length glittering sequin gown.

She couldn't help but smile as she returned his glance. "Okay, sure." 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The idea you had of me, who was she?
A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

Professor Xia Zi Wei sat at her desk, her eyes scanning the syllabus for her next seminar on Qing dynasty poetry. Her gaze lingered on the assigned text: a poem by Emperor Qian Long, a piece dedicated to lotus flowers. The poem was rumoured to be about a woman named Yu He, one of the emperor’s many lovers during his southern sojourns.

Zi Wei sighed and rolled her eyes. How familiar it all felt. A woman reduced to a symbol, immortalised not for her own story, but as a reflection of a man’s desire.

Perhaps it was their shared connection, both named after flowers, that drew Zi Wei to Yu He. Or perhaps it was the thought that this girl, likely only seventeen or eighteen, was younger than the students in her class when she was swept into the emperor’s orbit. She wondered what happened to her in the end.

Zi Wei’s mind churned with frustration. Why were women like Yu He always reduced to objects to be looked at, written about, painted into existence? Men were the ones who built worlds with their words, their art, their actions. Women, on the other hand, were confined to the periphery, filtered through someone else’s gaze, their stories distorted or erased altogether. Yu He, with all her complexity and promise and contradictions, was forever trapped in time, forever seventeen, forever uncomplicated.

A pang of sadness struck Zi Wei as she thought of Yu He and her life being reduced to a single narrative, her story absorbed into the emperor’s legacy, her name forever tethered to his.

She decided to scrap the original assignment, an analysis of the original poem. Instead, she would ask her students to write a poem from Yu He’s perspective. Yu He never had the chance to tell her own story, but perhaps in this small way, the girl who lived by Daming Lake, even if centuries later, even if in one seminar room of twenty students, could finally escape the dragon’s shackles and be free.

Chapter Text

She had always kept him waiting.

He would linger patiently outside Ji Shi Fu’s classroom when she was inevitably held back after class. When Ji Shi Fu’s back was turned, he would appear at the window, mouthing the lines of poems about war or the moon that she had forgotten with varying degrees of success.

The times when she and Zi Wei had been detained by Lao Fo Ye for some form of disorderly misconduct or another, he had stood at the gates of Ci Ning Gong in the early hours of the morning, bringing reinforcements in the form of Huang Ah Ma and her favourite snacks from the Imperial Kitchens tucked in his sleeve to keep them warm.

When she had disappeared from the palace without a trace, leaving only biting words in ink and a swallow on paper, he had waited for her at Shu Fang Zhai each day and night, jumping up at every whistle in the wind, wishing he could tear up all the sonnets in the world just for one more glimpse of her smile.

He had been there, nervously watching her scale rooftops and trees, ready to catch her if she fell; sitting at palace banquets, his eyes darting around to look for her, wondering what excuse she would offer for her tardiness this time; standing beside her protectively as she embarked on yet another wild, misguided scheme or well-meaning but reckless attempt at playing the good samaritan. It was always him, waiting for her.

And now, it seemed like she was the one always waiting for him.

Back when he had been Wu Ah Ge, his presence being announced at Shu Fang Zhai every day by the same two eunuchs had been as certain and as routine as the sound of the gilt bronze clock on the table chiming at every hour.

And now, while he still came to her most of the time, in the darkest of nights when the pillow next to her lay cold and empty, the nights when he had to place duty above love, she couldn't help but wonder if the moment would come when he would finally see through her like she sometimes saw through herself. Whether marrying a prince destined for the throne was the longest con she had ever pulled off.

Yet despite the years that passed, despite the women who entered the palace with their crimson smiles and lithe bodies, despite her stubbornness and imperfections, he never broke his promise. His heart was still hers, and only hers. His eyes still sparkled at her the way they had done in the pavilion so long ago. And she knew, deep within, that if she asked him to, he would surrender it all—title, power, gold, the entire jiangshan, just for the luxury of returning to her every night and waking up beside her each morning.

Eventually, she decided that love, perhaps, was not measured by who waited or for how long, but rather by the fact that it was each other who they always returned to.

Chapter Text

Encountering the Majestic: Portraits of Qing Emperors and Empresses | Hong Kong Palace Museum 

The imperial portraiture is the main theme of one of nine inaugural exhibitions at the HKPM. The show, titled ‘Encountering the Majestic: Portraits of Qing Emperors and Empresses’, brings together imperial ancestor portraits and sketches and takes the innovative curatorial approach of focusing on a single type of portraiture to decode and decipher it from multiple perspectives. Through close examination of these works, the exhibition reveals why, when, and how these portraits were commissioned, their evolution through the Qing dynasty (1644–1911), the meanings and symbolism they embody, their function in ancestral rites, and how recent conservation work is preserving them for future generations. This singular curatorial approach aimed to break fresh ground in the research of imperial portraiture. [x]

Fig. 11, The Rongjing Emperor and Xiaoshuren Empress in Court Attire

Qing dynasty, Rongjing era (1766–1801), 1769 

Hanging scroll, ink and colour on silk
The Palace Museum, Beijing

"I have decided," Xin Pin announced ceremoniously, "I shall wear my jade hairpin for the portrait. The one bestowed upon me by Huang Shang when I first entered the palace."

"A wonderful choice, Mistress," her maid chimed in eagerly. "It is very exciting that Mistress will have her portrait preserved for eternity here in the palace, especially someone as beautiful as Mistress."

Xin Pin’s crimson lips curved into a smirk of agreement as she admired her reflection in the vanity mirror.

"So the imperial concubines will sit for their individual portraits over the next few days?" the maid asked.

"Yes, only an empress can have a portrait with the emperor," Xin Pin answered haughtily. "Even Yi Fei cannot share a portrait with Huang Shang, it is against palace rules and expressly forbidden. No matter how much of Huang Shang's favour she supposedly holds for heaven knows what reason, when all is said and done, she is still a concubine and will be recorded as such in history," she added snidely with a dismissive sniff.

Yong Qi sat on the imperial throne, draped in opulent gold robes that clung uncomfortably to his skin in the stifling heat. Even Zhu Ying, who was sitting beside him and always the epitome of elegance, had shifted ever so slightly in her seat a few times. 

"Who in the Imperial Astronomical Bureau decided that the middle of June was the most auspicious time for this painting?" Yong Qi muttered under his breath, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow as two servants frantically fanned at his face. "This is hardly a flattering representation."

"I suppose it doesn't matter," he added dryly as an afterthought. "All these portraits end up looking the same. I can hardly tell the difference between the ones of my grandfather from my great-grandfather. It is all rather inconsequential."

"I dare say I agree," Zhu Ying answered evenly as she looked straight ahead, both of them now smirking slightly.  

A few days later, Yong Qi was seated on the bed reading a report as Xiao Yan Zi brushed her hair at the vanity.

"How was your portrait session with Lang Shi Ning today?" he asked. 

Xiao Yan Zi rolled her eyes a little. "Long."

He chuckled. She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror before speaking again. "That Lang Shi Ning is quite the character. He was making conversation with me and telling me how, in his country, even emperors can only marry one woman."

Yong Qi glanced up from his report, raising an eyebrow. "And what did you say to that?" he asked curiously.

She walked over to him and sat down beside him on the bed.

"I told him it’s ignorant to assume their customs are superior to ours," she replied lightly. "Then I asked whether European emperors have mistresses, even if legally they can’t have multiple wives. That shut him up."

Yong Qi laughed, but his expression turned more delicate as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms gently around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"That may be true," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. "But you do know that some emperors have only one woman in their hearts? And that he's so grateful he has her?"

I know," Xiao Yan Zi replied softly, leaning into his embrace. She slipped her hand into his, their fingers intertwining.

"You do not mind, do you? About the imperial portrait?" he asked gently. 

"Mind what?" 

"That I can only have an imperial portrait with Zhu Ying and not with you," he replied slowly. "That in history I will only be documented alongside her and not—" 

Xiao Yan Zi turned around to look at him as if he had grown two heads. "What?" she spluttered, laughing a little. "She's the empress. Of course it should be with her. Why would I mind?" 

"I don't know," Yong Qi answered, relieved and laughing a little too.

His expression then turned more serious as he grasped her hands and looked into her eyes earnestly.  "I guess I take it for granted that you do not care about all of this," he explained, waving his hand vaguely. "Even I know there is no meaning behind these things with Zhu Ying and I and we both go through these motions because they're expected of us, I do wish that there are some things I could do with you, that I can tie myself to you in history in ways that would make these things have meaning."  

"I don't mind, really," Xiao Yan Zi answered truthfully. "Paintings are meaningless in the present, they are for others to stare at hundred of years from now when we're all dead," she said matter-of-factly as Yong Qi smiled endearingly at her bluntness and taboo language. "And they all look the same, everyone wearing the same court attire, in the same stiff poses. You can't tell who they were as people or their relations to each other. I mean, do we learn anything real about the Ming emperors and empresses just by staring at their portraits?" 

"Besides," she continued, her voice soft as her large eyes gazed at him. "I don't particularly care how I am remembered in the future or if I am remembered at all. I just care about right now and that you are here with me at this moment." 

Yong Qi’s heart swelled at her words. He grazed her cheek with his thumb before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Me too. I am so grateful to have you here with me. I love you," he whispered, his smile so genuine Xiao Yan Zi felt a delicate catch in the depths of her heart. 

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi sat cross-legged on the bed, holding the small book Jing Shi Fang had sent her by way of Li Mo Mo. She supposed it was a mercy that Li Mo Mo had handed her the book instead of verbally going through the contents with her.

The title, A Harmonious Marriage: The Lady’s Guide to Bedroom Techniques, was enough to make her roll her eyes. She skimmed through a few pages, her expression becoming more incredulous with each line.

She scoffed audibly, drawing Yong Qi’s attention who was sitting on the other end of the bed.

"What?" he asked. 

"Listen to this enlightening book that Jing Shi Fang sent," Xiao Yan Zi began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "In the private quarters, a wife must accept her husband’s desires as her duty. Though the marital act may bring discomfort, a virtuous woman bears it without complaint and lies still, allowing her husband to complete his needs swiftly."

Yong Qi smirked. "Swiftly?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow, clearly entertained.

"So am I supposed to lie there like a sack of rice? And why does Jing Shi Fang think that I need a re-education of how to serve you or whatever ridiculous way they phrase it now that you're supposedly the Son of Heaven?" she sniffed, flipping the page.

Yong Qi chuckled softly. "You must know that you make me more...satisfied than you could ever imagine." 

She ignored him and continued to read aloud, "'when attending to your husband’s needs, always ensure you are properly powdered, perfumed, and draped in the finest silks, for a man cannot find satisfaction without proper aesthetics." 

Yong Qi laughed a little, reclining on the bed with his arms behind his head. "Well, clearly aesthetics don't matter to me since the first time I saw you, you were covered in mud and blood."

Xiao Yan Zi threw a mock glare his way. 

She ploughed on, "a wife must master the art of coyness, always offering just enough resistance to excite the husband’s passions while ultimately yielding to his desires." She paused, staring at the page with an indignant frown. "What kind of nonsense is this? So now I’m supposed to pretend I don’t want to be kissed, but secretly do?"

"Xiao Yan Zi, I think you should stop reading now..." he said, his voice tantalising as he moved towards her. 

Chapter Text

Yong Qi sat in the unfamiliar palace, staring at the flickering candlelight on the table casting restless shadows on the crimson-draped walls. The air was thick with the cloying scent of flowers and incense, an attempt to create warmth and romance, but he felt none of it.

In the adjoining bedchamber, he knew she was waiting for him. He knew he could not delay the inevitable. If not tonight, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the night after. There was no escape from this duty. Still, he sat there, trying to will the night away.

He hadn’t even met this woman, this girl, properly yet, but tonight, he was expected to cross the finish line with her. Nothing like how it had been with Xiao Yan Zi. But then again, wasn't that the point of all this?

With Zhi Hua, she had taken the lead, in a fashion. But with these others, he knew the burden would fall on him. They would not dare to move first, not when they had been raised to obey, to please, to wait in silence. And somehow, that made it worse—that he had to initiate this betrayal, that he could not even tell himself he was a passive participant. Not that it would make any of this any better. It wouldn’t.

His jaw tightened as he forced himself to remain in the room, though every part of him ached to leave. To return to her. Xiao Yan Zi.

His thoughts drifted to her. Was she asleep yet? Had her pillow been dampened by tears? Would she still let him hold her the same way when it was all over? He had left his fragrance pouch behind as he could not bear to bring a piece of her into another woman’s chambers—it felt like too much of a violation. He hoped it was a small, wordless reassurance that no matter where he was forced to be tonight, his heart would always belong to her. But he knew it was far from enough. 

Xiao Yan Zi, who had once been so unyielding, so unrestrained, had hardly said anything. Not the night before, not that morning. She had not told him not to go, had not protested, had not argued. No rocks had been thrown at him as they had when another girl shared his horse. No hands touched his chest like they had done when she pushed him out of Shu Fang Zhai, thinking he was engaged to a Tibetan princess. No sword was brandished like it had done the morning after his wedding to Zhi Hua. 

This time, she had only watched him go, resigned to this fate. And somehow that made it even worse. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi stood in the painting room, her gaze fixed on the old wardrobe before her. It was absurd, truly. Lang Shi Ning, the Italian Jesuit missionary, had told her that within this very wardrobe lay a magical, snow-covered world, a land called Narnia, where a great lion ruled and adventures beyond imagination awaited. Had the old painter gone senile?

Still, curiosity gnawed at her. With a deep breath, she pulled the wardrobe doors open and stepped inside, her hands brushing against the soft fabric of the silk robes hanging in the closet. Suddenly, a wave of stifling heat slammed into her, and the air thickened with swirling grains of sand.

She blinked in disbelief. In front of her stretched an endless expanse of golden dunes beneath a blazing sun. A desert?

Before she could fully grasp what had happened, a creature appeared before her - a monkey. But it was no ordinary monkey, for he looked more like a human and was dressed in a yellow and red tunic while a gold circlet with intricate engravings rested upon his head. He had a clever glint in his eyes and a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, hello!” the monkey exclaimed, casually rummaging through the thick fur on his chest. "You look lost. I’m Sun Wu Kong!"

Chapter Text

That afternoon, as Yong Qi returned to Jing Yang Gong, he found Xiao Yan Zi sitting at his study, deeply engrossed in a pile of scrolls which was an unusual sight. 

"What are you reading?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's the strangest thing," Xiao Yan Zi answered. "Liu Qing and Liu Hong gave me these stories about us, written by civilians in the city. People love writing tales about royal lives and imagining scandal in the palace, I knew that much before I even stepped foot here. They’re kind of banned but still, there's been loads of stories about your grandfather and Lao Fo Ye, about Huang Ah Ma and Huang Hou, but I never imagined they’d write stories about me...about us. They're the most popular ones, can you believe that? There’s hardly anything about Zi Wei and Er Kang, or your other brothers and sisters. I wonder why."

"Maybe it’s because with you, things are never boring. In real life and fiction," Yong Qi replied dryly. "What are they about?"

Xiao Yan Zi shot him a glare before continuing. "Anyway, they’re all so melodramatic. Listen to this one," she said, unfolding the scroll with exaggerated flair. "Under the glow of a thousand lanterns, Wu Ah Ge confesses his love to his beloved Xiao Yan Zi: 'I would give up everything, my title, my family, the throne in a heartbeat, for you. You are the centre of my universe, the sun rises and sets with you.'"

Xiao Yan Zi rolled her eyes. "It’s so sappy."

Yong Qi chuckled. "Well, it’s true. I’d give it all up for you," he said softly, his gaze piercing her. 

Xiao Yan Zi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she quickly ignored him and opened another scroll. "Listen to this one: Torn from the arms of her one true love Wu Ah Ge by the cruel hand of fate, Huan Zhu Ge Ge sits in the crimson sedan chair, draped in red, her heart heavy with sorrow as she prepares to be wed to the sinister General Su."

Yong Qi scowled at the mention of this particular story.

She picked up another scroll to read. "Set in an alternate universe, Wu Ah Ge is a wealthy merchant while Huan Zhu Ge Ge is his young, unruly apprentice looking to cause mischief."  

"What’s this symbol?" she asked, frowning, as she pointed to another scroll. "It says ‘explicit.'"

Yong Qi’s eyes widened in alarm. "Uh, I don’t think you should be reading that, Xiao Yan Zi."

Xiao Yan Zi unfurled the scroll and began reading aloud, her eyes getting larger and larger with every word before stopping suddenly mid-sentence and tossing the scroll aside with a startled squeak, her face turning a bright shade of red. 

"I told you," Yong Qi said between chuckles, unable to hide his amusement at her mortification.

Chapter Text

That morning, Zhu Ying stepped into the bedchamber of Cheng Qian Gong. Xiao Yan Zi had been feeling under the weather and she thought she would bring the remedy her family swore by.

What she was not expecting was the sight that greeted her.

On the bed, in the golden morning light, Xiao Yan Zi was completely bare with her smooth back facing the door, her porcelain skin shining with sweat, a curtain of silky hair cascading down, her head thrown back with breathy moans escaping her lips while her body moved in a slow, sensuous rhythm as she straddled a figure who she supposed had to be Huang Shang (not that Zhu Ying's attention was on him at all at this very moment). 

"Oh- heaven!" Zhu Ying gasped, the exclamation escaping before she could stop herself. She spun around in a flurry of silk, heat rushing to her face, barely managing to keep the bottle of medicine from slipping from her hands.

Xiao Yan Zi let out a startled squeak. She tumbled off Yong Qi in a rush and grabbed onto the sheets in an attempt to cover herself.

Zhu Ying, still facing away, cleared her throat and took a steadying breath. "Forgive me, I came to bring the medicine I mentioned and to see how you were," she said, her voice carefully measured. "But it seems you have...already recovered somewhat," she finished weakly before setting the medicine on a nearby cabinet.

"Huang Shang." She dipped into a curtsy with her back still turned to them before straightening. "I shall see you shortly in Qian Qing Gong."

As she exited the room, she could hear the muffled giggles behind her of Xiao Yan Zi and Huang Shang collapsing into laughter.

Chapter Text

As Yong Qi prepared to undress for the night, he turned to find Xiao Yan Zi perched on the edge of the bed, draped in a flowing blue silk gown. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she balanced a tray in her lap with jade tiles neatly arranged upon it.

He stopped abruptly in mid-motion, fingers still resting on the fastenings of his shirt. His gaze flickered between her and the tiles, confused. “What’s all this?” he asked.

“Huang Shang,” she said invitingly, her expression demure, “it’s time to flip the tiles.”

Yong Qi arched his eyebrow at the way she referred to him. “You do realise I already did that earlier today?”

Xiao Yan Zi tilted her head playfully, her expression unreadable as her fingers traced the edge of the tray. “I know," she trilled. "But have you read what’s written on them?”

He stepped closer as his eyes scanned the inscriptions on each jade tile. His eyes widened. “Is this…?”

“This is a special version,” she answered serenely, “the tile you flip determines what I do to you…” her lips parted slightly, her voice low and tantalising, her eyes on him, as she leaned back. “Or what you do to me. Whichever you prefer.”

A slow smirk tugged at Yong Qi’s lips as his pulse quickened. He quickly undid the rest of his fastenings, shrugging off his shirt with a newfound urgency. “And tell me,” he mused, his breath uneven as his fingers skimmed the edges of the jade tiles, “can I flip more than one?”

Slowly, Xiao Yan Zi nodded her head innocently at him.

Yong Qi’s fingers hovered over the tiles before selecting one, twirling it between his fingers, his gaze fixed on her, his eyes dark with desire. Xiao Yan Zi glanced at the tile and parted her legs slowly, her breath hitching with anticipation.

In one swift movement, Yong Qi flipped the tray aside and pinned her beneath him, his mouth capturing hers in an all-consuming kiss.

Chapter Text

As they drove across the city, Xiao Yan Zi tapped her phone and the intro of a song filled the car.

Yong Qi groaned dramatically. “Not again. Please, not after I scored you the holy grail of concert tickets. Front row, sweltering heat, screaming teenage girls, three-and-a-half-hour setlist, glitter everywhere, in my clothes, my car, my life, for weeks. I put myself through all of that for you, remember? I think that earns me a Taylor-free car ride for at least a month," he said, his tone playful, his plea real. 

She turned to him with a knowing look. “And I thoroughly thanked you for it afterward in the hotel suite, didn’t I?”

She started singing along. "This is my favourite song," she said. 

“Why this one? I personally liked the one with the chair routine,” Yong Qi joked as Xiao Yan Zi slapped his arm. 

Xiao Yan Zi hesitated, suddenly shy. “Because,” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Twin fire signs. You’re an Aries. I’m a Leo.”

His gaze flickered to her in the passenger seat, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Leave it on then,” he said.

Chapter Text

In the bar of the Ritz-Carlton, Xiao Yan Zi slammed back the rest of her fourth gin and tonic before turning to Yong Qi.

"I’ve figured it all out,” she declared with a dramatic wave of her hand. “Life is fucking meaningless. We’re all meaningless. We live, we die, we turn to dust, end of story. And in between, we kid ourselves into thinking love matters, careers matter, buying useless expensive shit matters. We do all of that, falling in and out of love, chasing after the best schools, the best jobs, having kids, to distract ourselves from the fact that none of it actually means anything in the end. Society tells us what to care about, so we do. But it's all meaningless bullshit."

"You should be a motivational speaker," Yong Qi said dryly.

"No, but seriously, think about love and marriage and all that shit. Who really falls in love with their 'one true love' like we imagined back in high school? I mean, maybe people like Zi Wei and Er Kang do, but are they really that happy? I guess happiness is relative, right? So, yeah, their lives might seem better than the alternative. But the grass is always greener, isn’t it? Do they ever stop and ask themselves if they’re actually happy? It's like that fucking Billy Joel song, don't you know that only fools are satisfied? "

She let out a sigh, shaking her head a little, swirling the ice in her glass. “Maybe that’s the solution, to keep moving so you don’t think too hard about it, because there's no answer. Because the alternative is spiralling into existential crises because you feel too much and then doing a complete 180 and convincing yourself that nihilism is the answer because it’s easier and less complicated than feeling.”

She leaned forward, her large eyes razor sharp despite the alcohol. “We lie to ourselves that falling in love, or the idea of it, will fix everything that's wrong and broken inside of us and then we're like shocked when it totally doesn't. Like you with Zhi Hua. Did you love her?”

Yong Qi studied his drink, the amber liquid reflecting the dim bar light. They were drunk enough for brutally honest questions and equally truthful replies, but not so drunk that saying it didn’t still take a second of sobering, soul-crushing clarity. Finally, he lifted his Manhattan, took a sip, and answered, simply, “no.”

“Exactly," Xiao Yan Zi exclaimed. "It’s all just timing. You were a certain age, she was there, so it happened. I mean, if we’d been ten years older when we dated, we probably would’ve ended up married too.” She pulled an ice cube from her glass and popped it into her mouth.

Yong Qi watched her for a long moment, then let out a quiet, bittersweet laugh. “Yeah,” he said softly, “I guess we would've.”

The next morning, Xiao Yan Zi woke up with a pounding headache, her face pressed against Yong Qi’s chest, her hair tangled in his mouth, his sheets over her body. She groaned, rubbing her temples before slipping out of bed quietly. She fumbled around for her dress from the night before, pulling the wrinkled blue fabric over her head. As she moved, Yong Qi stirred beside her, blinking groggily.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “You wanna stay for breakfast?”

She hesitated. “Uh, sure.”

She walked into the kitchen and living area and blinked. It was almost empty, with only a fridge, some countertops, a single stool, and a dozen unopened moving boxes piled up against the walls.

“Wow,” she said. “You weren’t kidding when you said you just moved in.”

“Yeah,” Yong Qi replied, running a hand through his messy hair. “I just got back from New York permanently last week.”

They ended up sitting on the floor, eating bagels he’d ordered in, coffee steaming between them. Xiao Yan Zi set her cup down and looked at him with a mix of curiosity and tentativeness.

“So, what does this mean?” she asked, her voice casual but careful.

Yong Qi, mid-bite of his bagel, arched an eyebrow. “I thought you said everything is meaningless?" 

“What can I say, I’m a cynical drunk,” she replied with a shrug as he chuckled.

She hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “My life’s kind of all over the place now-” she blurted out. 

“Xiao Yan Zi, I’m divorced and I have no furniture,” he joked. “It’s fine, I get it.”

She laughed a little, the tension between them easing.

He paused for a moment, looking at her more seriously. “But I’d like to see you again. I’m not sure how or what it would look like, but I would.”

She met his gaze, her voice softer but more certain than before. “Okay. I’d like that, too." 

Yong Qi smiled, and they settled into a comfortable silence as they finished their food. As Xiao Yan Zi poured herself another cup of coffee, a playful glint flickered in her eyes. She took a slow sip, keeping her gaze fixed on her cup.

“You’ve...picked up some new moves,” she remarked nonchalantly. 

He laughed, the sound easy and familiar, as if no time had passed at all. “Well, it has been nearly fifteen years."

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi is 39, Yong Qi is 25

It was late at night when Xiao Yan Zi heard the familiar noise and he appeared in her bedroom.

"Hi," Yong Qi said, a bit out of breath, his gaze locking onto hers.

"Hi," she answered, suddenly feeling self-conscious as she prepared to undress.

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-nine. You?"

"Twenty-five. The coronation was just a few months ago." 

Xiao Yan Zi nodded and cleared her throat. "I was just about to get ready for bed."

"Oh." He blinked, glancing around the room in mild confusion. "I'm not here tonight?"

She gave him a half-smile. "No, you're...elsewhere tonight."

Yong Qi frowned slightly before turning toward the window framing the crescent moon high in the sky. "It's not a full moon night," he stated.

"No."

His brows knitted together. Xiao Yan Zi could see the wheels turning in his head, that if his future self wasn’t with Zhu Ying, then the only other possibility was Zhi Hua.

"You’re not with her," she clarified quickly. "There are...others."

Yong Qi visibly stiffened, a different kind of horror dawning on his face. "Others? But- "

"Surely you didn’t think you’d become emperor and could just have me? Given your relationships with Zhu Ying and Zhi Hua? No branches and leaves are being opened and spread in that area," she said dryly. 

"Well, I-" he began, before running a hand across his forehead, exhaling sharply. "I suppose I always knew it was expected, something I’d have to accept. But now that it’s real..." His voice trailed off as he looked down, unwilling to meet her gaze.

She stepped closer, her voice softer now. "It’s okay, Yong Qi."

He lifted his eyes to hers, with a searching look. "Is it?" he asked, his tone one of disbelief.

She paused for only a moment before giving him a small, reassuring smile. "I won’t pretend I love the idea, but I’m fine now. Honest."

Yong Qi swallowed hard as his expression tightened with worry. "But we’re still the same? Please tell me I’m still your Yong Qi," he asked, a sense of desperation in his voice. "That I still come back to you most of the time? Because otherwise, I- I don't think I can bear it." 

"Of course you do," she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He leaned into her touch and let out a shaky breath, before his hands found their way to her waist, pulling her into a kiss. It was soft but urgent, his lips insistent against hers. Xiao Yan Zi sank into the kiss, clutching his shoulders, but there was also a small part of her that felt she couldn't fully relax into the moment, as if the weight of the difference in their years was pressing on her chest. 

As his hands moved to untuck her clothing to seek the warmth of her skin, she suddenly froze and pulled back slightly. "Um, it’s late," she said, biting her lip. 

Yong Qi blinked, a little surprised, but nodded. "Of course."

She paused before she began to unfasten her robes as he sat on the bed, watching her unabashedly while he removed his own outer clothes. She could feel his eyes lingering on her as she stripped down to her dudou, but he made no effort to look away as his gaze flickered from her breasts to her hips. Flustered, she turned her back to him as she undid the knot and slipped out of the garment before hurriedly pulling on her nightclothes. Yong Qi smirked slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes at her shy behaviour. 

As they settled into bed, Xiao Yan Zi glanced at him, noticing how he looked even younger from this angle. Then, in a swift movement, Yong Qi reached for her, pulling her into his arms as he kissed her again, deeper this time. His hands wandered as his lips trailed down her neck while his fingers started undoing the ties of her blouse.

"Yong Qi," she whispered breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

"Since the present me isn’t here, I thought I should make it up to you," he teased playfully.

Xaio Yan Zi became increasingly lost in the haze of his searing touches, barely noticing until the fabric of her blouse slid open, baring her chest and stomach to him.

"Yong Qi-" she gasped, instinctively pushing him back and pulling her blouse shut.

He stilled immediately, concern flashing across his face. "What’s wrong? Sorry, do you not want to-?"

"No, it’s just..." She hesitated, her fingers still gripping the fabric, wondering why twenty-five year old him was even interested in doing this with her. 

"Hey, it’s me," he murmured, his eyes full of sincerity, brushing her hair away from her face. "Tell me what's on your mind," he softly. His hands reached out to cover hers, pressing gently, waiting.

She hesitated for a moment before looking into his trustful eyes and letting her grip loosen. Slowly, he peeled the fabric away, letting out a breath as his gaze fell upon her bare skin.

Yong Qi looked at the small scars on her stomach with the most delicate expression. Xiao Yan Zi stilled, her breath catching as she glanced down at him cautiously as his fingers lingered over the marks, gently tracing the faint scars, the delicate remnants of her pregnancies. His touches were soft, almost reverent, before he lifted his eyes to meet hers with a bittersweet smile.

"You were worried that I might...?" he asked, his voice quiet, tender.

Xiao Yan Zi exhaled a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. "With Nan Er and Mian- it didn't leave any- but with the other children that followed..." she trailed off, unsure why she felt like she had to explain this. 

Yong Qi's eyes sparkled at the mention of their other children still to come, leaving him quite breathless and full of wonder.

A small, nervous laugh escaped from her lips. "I know it sounds silly. You, in the present, you don't seem to mind but...." her voice faltered slightly, the old insecurities surfacing, knowing that her body wasn’t the same as it was when she was twenty-four in his timeline, and that the older him had many other options now, all younger than her, in the present in her timeline. 

Yong Qi's gaze softened as he cupped her face, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. "Xiao Yan Zi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "you should know that you are so beautiful to me. More than words can ever say. Even more so for all you’ve endured and for our children you’ve given birth to. Okay?"

Her heart swelled as she gave a small nod, surprised at how much more assured he seemed in that moment, despite her being the older one. “Okay.”

He lowered his head and pressed soft kisses to her scars. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver through her as she finally relaxed into him. As his kisses trailed upward, he spread her blouse open, shrugging it off her shoulders, exposing her upper body to his gaze. He pressed a sweet kiss to the scar above her left breast, where his arrow had pierced her, then took her right hand, kissing the scar above her knuckles from the weiqi place long ago.

He paused for a moment as he looked at her with a bittersweet expression.

“What?” she murmured.

“I just realised…” he began, his voice tinged with guilt. “Your scars, they were all because of me.”

She chuckled softly, brushing a kiss against his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt. “It’s alright,” she whispered, her eyes glistening up at him. “I am yours, aren’t I?”

“Yes. And I am yours,” he answered like a solemn promise, holding her hand to his cheek, “only yours.”

Their lips finally met again as she surrendered to him completely this time, gripping onto him as if he was both her anchor and her storm, in a moment that felt both eternal and entirely new, as they claimed each other over and over, again and again. 

Chapter Text

Qing Er had come to the palace to paid her respects to Yong Qi and Huang Hou at Qian Qing Gong and afterwards, had visited Xiao Yan Zi and her children at Cheng Qian Gong. She had decided to take a short respite in the imperial gardens. The summer heat was oppressive, but under the shade of a wisteria-laden trellis near a lotus pond, a slight breeze offered some relief. She gazed at the delicate ripple of dragonflies skimming the water’s surface.

Just then, voices drifted from the pavilion nearby, breaking the serene stillness. Qing Er instinctively turned her head toward the sound and peered through the gaps of the trellis, recognising the voices belonging to two young concubines.

“I've been here for weeks and I still don’t understand what Huang Shang sees in Yi Fei,” Xiang Guiren said, her tone edged with petulance. “She’s old- well, past her prime, at least. She is not well educated nor is she an accomplished dancer, painter or pipa player. Yes, she’s rather pretty, but aside from those large eyes of hers, what else does she have to offer?”

Xin Daying sighed, the sound carrying an air of resigned familiarity. “I’ve been here much longer than you and I don’t fully understand it either. Although…” She hesitated, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “There are rumours.”

Qing Er, who had up until now been mildly amused by their conversation, stiffened. She much preferred to not listen to such inane palace gossip, but with the way the pavilion was situated, attempting to leave now would mean walking directly toward them. Reluctantly, she remained still, unwillingly eavesdropping.

Xiang Guiren, ever eager for intrigue, leaned in with anticipation. “What kind of rumours?”

Xin Daying looked around furtively before speaking. “They say she possesses certain skills...in the bedchamber.”

Xiang Guiren’s eyes widened. “What sort of skills?”

“That’s just it, no one really knows,” Xin Daying murmured. “But the old momos, the ones who were there when she first entered the palace say she may be affiliated with some secret flower society, a group with esoteric knowledge of the intimate arts, and that’s how she won Huang Shang’s favour at the beginning."

"You mean, she was taught?" Xiang Guiren asked incredulously. 

Xin Daying nodded. “Things like how to stir a man’s deepest desires, learning the exact pressure points that heighten pleasure, and mastering the art of hypnosis so that once he has been with her, he can never crave another.”

Xiang Guiren’s mouth fell open. 

Xin Daying continued, her expression one of dark fascination. "Some even claim she has shamanic powers. They say that when she was still a Ge Ge, during the late Emperor’s birthday, she conducted a shaman ritual that brought dead spirits to life and caused a momo to be so scared of her abilities that she became bedridden for weeks."

Xiang Guiren let out a soft gasp and clutched her embroidered handkerchief. “No! You mean…sorcery?”

“It’s possible,” Xin Daying said darkly. “One of the eunuchs confided to my maid that he’s heard strange noises come from the bedchamber at Cheng Qian Gong, almost as if Huang Shang is in some sort trance.”

Qing Er grimaced, resisting the urge to clap her hands over her ears. The conversation had taken a turn so absurd and distasteful that she hardly knew whether to scoff in disdain or burst into laughter.

Xiang Guiren shuddered. “What could she possibly be doing to make him react that way?”

Xin Daying's eyes gleamed. “They say she’s bewitched him, that at night, Huang Shang becomes a slave to her, forgetting all the other concubines. That she’s hypnotised him so he only flips her jade tile.”

Xiang Guiren gulped. 

“There's more,” Xin Daying continued. She looked around before adding in a hushed tone, "they say she once transformed a concubine into a butterfly and summoned bees to attack the late Empress," as Xiang Guiren almost knocked over her teacup at this revelation. 

The two concubines continued whispering feverishly, their imaginations running wild. But Qing Er had already turned her attention back to the lotus pond, focusing on the gentle hum of dragonflies skimming the water, trying not to laugh. 

On visits like this, she was truly glad the days of palace life was behind her. 

Chapter Text

In the end, she understood that she had wanted too much. She had reached too far, grasped at things that were never meant to belong to her. Love and power, passion and status, the devotion of one man and the reverence of an empire. Even Xiao Yan Zi, who had captured Yong Qi’s heart so effortlessly, had never possessed both.

As she lay there, weak and fading, she retraced her steps, searching for the precise moment where her path had splintered beyond repair. If she had been less jealous, less hasty, if she had not let resentment cloud her judgment, if she had kept their secrets rather than using them as weapons, perhaps he would not have turned away from her so completely, looked at her with such disillusionment. Perhaps, in another version of their lives, she could have stood beside him as his rightful wife, the di fujin, the empress. There would be no romantic love there, she knew that much, but he would respect her like he respected Huang Hou, and she would have occupied the second highest position in all of the land.

Perhaps, if she had been able to view her role in his bed as nothing more than duty, if she had been able to treat the act as favour bestowed on her, as a momentary pleasure, a means to an end just as the other concubines did, she might have still have had him, physically, for a night once in a while. If she had ignored the way his eyes never met hers in the candlelight, the way his lips remained pressed together as if holding back a name that did not belong to her, the way his hands moved over her body with controlled precision rather than tenderness and need, if she had ignored the stench of regret that lingered after, the silence, the unbearable figurative and literal distance that settled in between them, she might have never realised how hollow it all was.

But she had always been perceptive, too clever for her own good. The precocious youngest daughter who had grown up so fast that she ended up not growing at all. The other women never seemed to care the way she did, or if they did, they did not let it wound them as it had wounded her. Perhaps they simply did not love him. Then again, did she? Or was she in love with the idea of him?

She had always seen through illusions, except for her own. She had told so many lies that sometimes she started believing in them herself. If she continued living in that fantasy forever, it might have been easier than the biting truth. 

Maybe if she had swallowed her pride and said yes when he asked if she wanted him to stay that time, if she had continued to take advantage of his kind demeanour like she did when she was seventeen, if she had given him more children to secure her place, perhaps Mian Yi would not have been left so alone, would not have been forced to carry the burden of being the son of an unfavoured concubine, bullied by the servants and pitied by those who knew of his mother’s fall from grace.

But it was too late now. There was no more room for wishes or regrets.

Yong Qi came to see her one last time. There was something like sadness, pity and the tiniest flicker of regret in his eyes. He sat by her bed, looking at her as though searching for the girl she had once been. He said her name so softly that it almost made her believe she had not ruined everything. His hand reached for hers as she coughed up blood, and though she knew she should have pulled away, though she hated the way she still ached for his warmth, she let him take it. But it was not enough. It had never been enough.

Later, after he left, she closed her eyes, and in the darkness, she saw a vision of a quiet life, far from the freezing walls of the palace. She saw a modest home, filled with the sound of laughter and the warmth of children and a man who loved her. Perhaps he would be a third-rank scholar from a small town with kind eyes and a heart that was wholly hers, someone who spent his days surrounded by books and poetry and art. They would have three children, two daughters and a son, and their children would learn the definition of happiness from their parents. She would not have to beg for love or cling to scraps of affection that were never truly hers and the only jiangshan she would know would be the calming sound of the riverbanks nearby and the mountains she painted with colours as delicate and as soft as her disposition.

In the end, she had wanted too much. She had wanted to be everything, or nothing at all.

She would choose differently in the next life, she thought, as her eyelids fluttered shut for the last time.

Yes, in the next life, she would be ordinary.

Chapter Text

It was just his luck really, Yong Qi thought, being trapped in a time loop that was one of the worst days of his life thus far. 

Every day, over and over again, he suffered through the same ridiculous series of events: Xiao Yan Zi pelting him with persimmons, being chased by wild dogs until he was thoroughly muddied and humiliated, Xiao Yan Zi tackling him to the ground and biting him in what could only be described as borderline assault while everyone watched them writhing on the floor in a highly indecent manner as part of an absurd theatrical drama. Not to forget being perilously close to being recognised by the imperial guards and getting re-captured. And as if all that weren’t enough, he had to endure Xiao Jian looking at Xiao Yan Zi like that. Each repetition made his blood boil a little hotter.

But no matter what he did, he could never seem to catch her before she fell into the river, prevent the inevitable disaster that unfolded when they returned to the house, or worst of all, stop Xiao Jian from looking at her. By what had to be the hundredth time, he was certain he would lose his mind.

This time, Xiao Yan Zi plucked a ripe persimmon from the tree, inspecting it carefully before pressing it into his hands. “Here! This one’s perfect for you, Yong Qi.”

For the first time, he really looked at her. She was smiling at him, her eyes bright with mischief, oblivious to his mounting frustration. As her hands casually reached to unbutton his vest like it was the most natural thing in the world, he realised something. No matter how absurd, frustrating or downright miserable this day had been, there was a part of him that didn’t mind. Because through it all, Xiao Yan Zi was right there beside him.

(And well, he wouldn’t mind if she took another layer off him at that moment either. But he firmly shoved that thought aside.)

Instead, he simply smiled back at her, glancing around the deserted orchard before wrapping his arms around her. “I love you,” he whispered.

Xiao Yan Zi let out a startled hiccup in response. Her cheeks flushed and when she looked up at him, her mouth had curved into a secret smile, one that she saved only for him.

Maybe being stuck in an endless loop wasn’t so bad after all, especially if he got to spend forever with her.

Chapter Text

After Xiao Yan Zi leaves, Yong Qi does not set foot in any of his women’s bedchambers for a long time. But one night, something inside him snaps. A raw, carnal need takes hold, a need to lose himself in the heat of another’s body. He takes them night after night with a reckless force, each encounter a frantic search for sensation, a fleeting release from the emptiness gnawing at him. He longs to feel everything, every touch, every shudder, every temporary pleasure, only so that in the end he can feel nothing at all.

But it is not enough. He longs to be so numb and indifferent, to cross rivers, oceans, continents, universes until he can can barely remember the heavenly feeling of being with her if he tried, until he can no longer recall her eyes and her smile and her laughter, until he can erase her name from his lips, her scent from his skin, her soul from his heart, until he can look upon her fondly and not with regret, until she is an already turned chapter in his book and not the whole arc of his existence, until he can finally let go of her and all the exquisitely wondrous and heartbreakingly devastating things she made him feel. 

Chapter Text

Later, as Mian Yi and Yong Qi sat in the carriage en route along the West Lake, the silence between them stretched, heavy and unspoken.

After a moment, Mian Yi hesitated before beginning in a tentative voice, “Huang Ah Ma, the woman you wanted me to look into…who is she? Why did you not meet her in the end?”

Yong Qi did not answer.

Mian Yi tried again. “Her daughter, that young woman who we spoke to, is she like...Zi Wei Gugu?” he asked softly. "Was her mother-"

Yong Qi’s head snapped toward him, his gaze dark and unreadable. “No,” he bit out, his voice like the edge of a blade. He exhaled slowly, feeling a sharp pain in his chest and a familiar dull ache in his heart. “She is nothing like Xia Yu He."

The words left his lips before he knew what they meant, before Mian Yi could begin to understand who Xia Yu He was. As the carriage lurched ahead to the Forbidden City, Yong Qi could only hope, desperately, that his son was wrong.

Chapter Text

On a mild spring day, Tian Er, with her brother and sister, laid their mother to rest beside their father in a tranquil, serene plot of land near Orioles singing in the Willows (柳浪闻莺) by the West Lake. Her mother had left her specific instructions: to be buried in her sky-blue robes with a jade pendant engraved with Manchu characters that she had never seen before. 

Though she knew with certainty that her mother had lived a life of relative happiness and contentment, that their family had been filled with nothing but joy and warmth and love, Tian Er had always sensed there was a secret her mother carried, a quiet yearning hidden deep within, as if something essential had been missing from her life, something she only allowed herself to search for in the solace of her dreams at night.

As the final handful of earth settled over the grave, Tian Er whispered a silent wish: that in the next life, her mother would finally have all that she had wanted, all that she had longed for.

Chapter Text

“Huang Shang! Yi Fei Niang Niang!” Xiao Deng Zi burst into the dining room of Cheng Qian Gong, his breath uneven, his robes still dusted with snow.

Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi had just finished their evening meal when he rushed in. “Huang Shang ji xiang, Yi Fei Niang Niang ji xiang,” he greeted hastily, barely catching his breath.

“What is it?” Yong Qi asked, setting down his teacup as Xiao Yan Zi turned to listen.

“Shun Gong Gong just sent word. The case of the two eunuchs who arrived from the south, the ones who died in the Department of Internal Affairs…” Xiao Deng Zi hesitated, his voice lowering. “The imperial physicians examined them and suspect it might be…” He faltered.

“Might be what?” Yong Qi asked sharply. 

Xiao Deng Zi swallowed hard. “The plague,” he finally said.

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Xiao Yan Zi clutched her handkerchief while the maids exchanged extremely anxious glances, their faces paling. In her lap, little Zhuang Min babbled happily, oblivious to the tension filling the air.

Yong Qi’s jaw tightened. “Are they certain?”

“The physicians say it’s too soon to tell,” Xiao Deng Zi admitted. “But they recommend an immediate quarantine, every palace sealed for two weeks as a precaution.” He stepped forward to present the official report.

Yong Qi took it and scanned the contents quickly, his brows furrowed.

“But there haven’t been any cases of plague in the city or anywhere in the country, not like last time,” Xiao Yan Zi reasoned, her voice edged with unease.

“Still, we can’t take any chances,” Yong Qi muttered. He closed the report and exhaled. “Very well. Inform Shun Gong Gong to implement the physicians’ recommendations immediately. All palaces are to be sealed. No one goes in or out. Morning court is cancelled until further notice. And send word to Huang Hou to oversee the inner palace’s quarantine.”

“Yes, your servant obeys,” Xiao Deng Zi bowed and hurried out.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Xiao Yan Zi took a steadying breath before standing. “Ming Yue, take the children and put them to bed as usual. Say nothing about this for now, I don’t want them to worry.” She gently passed Zhuang Min, still gurgling and smiling, into Ming Yue’s arms.

“Cai Xia,” she continued. “Please have the maids conduct a thorough cleaning of the entire palace. Every hall, every corridor, nothing should be overlooked.” Cai Xia nodded without hesitation, already turning to carry out the order.

Then she turned to Yong Qi, as if just realising he was still there, and started pushing him toward the door.

“What are you doing?” he asked, bewildered.

“You can’t stay here!” she insisted, trying to usher him out. “I was in the Department of Internal Affairs just a few days ago! What if I caught the plague? What if you get sick? You're the emperor! You need to go back to Qian Qing Gong where it’s safer.”

Yong Qi caught her wrists, stopping her. “Xiao Yan Zi,” he said gently, “I was with you last night and have been with you since this afternoon. If you were infected, I would have been exposed already.” He gave her hands a squeeze and his voice softened. “Besides, I want to be here with you, with the children. Don’t you want to be with me too?”

Xiao Yan Zi stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding and conceding, fear still in her eyes. 

Yong Qi pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her hair. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured.

Outside, the snow continued to fall. 

Without morning court, Yong Qi spent his days catching up on reports and affairs, while Xiao Yan Zi kept the children occupied and tended to Zhuang Min, who was still young enough to demand constant attention. Evenings were theirs as a family, shared dinners, games with the children, and tucking them into bed before retreating to their bedchamber. 

By the tenth day, Xiao Yan Zi was so restless she nearly considered taking up embroidery. When Yong Qi entered the bedroom after settling Zhuang Nan for the night, she turned to him.

"Is she alright now?" she asked.

"I think so. She was just worried we might never leave the palace and that she’ll never see Xiang He gege again,” he explained with an amused expression as he loosened the ties of his outer robe.

He sank onto the bed beside her and let out a long sigh. "At least there’s been no news of new cases," he murmured.

Xiao Yan Zi stroked his forehead but before she could withdraw her hand, he caught her wrist and pulled her down with him, burying his face in the curve of her neck. His hands wandered and slipped beneath the hem of her blouse, his intentions unmistakable as he pressed closer.

"Yong Qi!" she swatted at his hand, half-scolding, half-laughing. "Again? We've done this every- it’s not like we're still teenagers. You need to control yourself.“

He smirked. "Well, it’s not like there’s anything else to do, is there?"

Yong Qi rolled her beneath him, holding her gaze. "Besides, I’m going to miss this."

She raised an eyebrow. "Miss this?" she repeated incredulously, gesturing toward the palace gates that were still barred shut outside the window framed by a full moon. 

His smile softened into something wistful. “Yes. I’ll miss waking up to you every morning and falling asleep beside you every night.” 

Xiao Yan Zi’s breath hitched. For a long moment, she simply looked at him, her expression delicate. Then, she leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips as she pressed his hands to her, letting him claim her. 

By the fourteenth day, as no new cases had been reported, the imperial physicians concluded that the illness was not the plague but something that resembled it that was not contagious and that it posed no further threat. 

As the quarantine order had been lifted, Yong Qi rose early to prepare for morning court. While fastening his belt, he hesitated. "I should probably check in on the other- other children tonight and tomorrow to make sure they’re alright. So I might not- “

"It’s okay, Yong Qi," Xiao Yan Zi interrupted gently as she helped him with his belt, already knowing what he wanted to say. "I’ll see you in a few days."

She paused. ”You were right," she whispered, looking up at him with her large eyes, her voice suddenly emotional. ”This was nice."

This was nice, to have you all to myself. To pretend, just for a little while, that this was how it should always be.

Yong Qi looked at her with a bittersweet smile as if understanding all that she was not saying. He cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured. 

She wrapped her arms around him one last time before he left.

Xiao Yan Zi watched as he made his way through the courtyard, the early morning snow still falling in delicate flurries and melting as the first rays of winter sunlight touched the ground. At the gate, he paused and turned back one last time. Their eyes met and he smiled at her- soft, sweet and full of promises that he would always hold. 

And then, he was gone.

Chapter Text

CDramaLover17: Have you watched Legend of Zhu Ying yet?

Hailan4ever: No, what's it about?

CDramaLover17: It's the latest drama by Liu Lian Zi, who also wrote The Legend of Zhen Huan and Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace. She’s covered stories of Yong Zheng, Qian Long and now Rong Jing.

Hailan4ever: Oh cool, I loved Ruyi. Is it any good? 

CDramaLover17: It’s amazing! It’s about Zhu Ying who is the empress and Rong Jing’s wife (Rong Jing is Yong Qi in Ruyi but he actually doesn't die in history). They have such a beautiful, but ultimately depressing, love story.

Hailan4ever: Sounds interesting. I'll give it a try! 

Hailan4ever: Legend of Zhu Ying is so good! I just binge-watched 20 episodes. But I can’t stand Xiao Yan Zi! Her name is ridiculous too! She’s pure evil and needs to be punished. I can’t believe she almost killed poor Mian Yi by pushing him into the frozen pond like that. Rong Jing is dumb for falling for her tricks. Like, why does he keep flipping her jade tile, so ridiculous. 

CDramaLover17: I know, right? Zhi Hua is also way too nice to her.

Hailan4ever: The early Rong Jing/Zhi Hua scenes are so pure and sweet, the scene when they consummate their marriage is so soft. <3

Hailan4ever: I knew it, I knew Ming Yue killed Mian Zhang. I don't really understand what she thinks it'll achieve because the emperor only had a drunken night with her which resulted in her daughter but it's not like he's going to favour her more if her mistress' son is dead. 

Hailan4ever: Xiao Yan Zi causing Xiang Guiren to have a miscarriage is so sad! She was only sixteen and so broken afterwards :/ 

Hailan4ever: Wow, I did NOT see that twist coming. Zhu Ying not being able to have children because Xiao Yan Zi put infertility herbs in the bamboo hairpin Rong Jing gave her but then she suggested to give it to Zhu Ying and she wore it everyday. When Zhu Ying cried, I cried too. :(

CDramaLover17: Literally the worst. And don’t even get me started on Mian Ren and Mian Xuan. They’re just power-hungry after the throne and they treat Mian Yi like crap. Oh, and Zhuang Nan is just as terrible as her mother for turning on Zhu Ying like that when she raised her. 

Hailan4ever: Just watched the episode where Rong Jing and Zhu Ying get their portraits done and then they make out in the bathtub, that scene was so hot hahaha. 

Hailan4ever: Omg I can't believe Xiao Yan Zi seduced Er Kang with aphrodisiac incense because she's so desperate for another child to keep favour with Rong Jing...Mian You has to be Er Kang's right? 

Hailan4ever: Woah, did not expect Liu Qing to be Xiao Yan Zi’s childhood sweetheart. Although Jin Suo was kind of stupid for revealing it, what did she expect, he was obviously going to be executed because it’s treason. Not sure if the drama actually implies that Liu Qing and Xiao Yan Zi slept together at Da Za Yuan…

 
Hailan4ever: Zhu Ying is a freaking genius! The way she switched the cups so Xiao Yan Zi ended up poisoning herself. Yaaas take that, XYZ!

CDramaLover17: That was such a power move, I love that she got revenge for herself, but more so for Zhi Hua. I appreciate Zhu Ying and Zhi Hua's friendship so much. Even though the ending was bittersweet, I loved it. Tbh Rong Jing was just as bad as Xiao Yan Zi for enabling her. I guess that’s why Mian Yi buried them together because it's what Rong Jing deserved after what he did to Mian Yi's mother even though Rong Jing realised on his deathbed the only two women he ever loved was Zhu Ying and Zhi Hua. 

Hailan4ever: I love Zhi Hua my bb girl the most. She was so gracious and kind until the very end, it's so heartbreaking that she never got to see her son become emperor. I'm so sad it's over! 

CDramaLover17: I'm reading fics on AO3 now lol. I need to get my angsty Rong Jing/Zhu Ying fix. There's also an AU fic where Zhi Hua doesn't die and she takes down Xiao Yan Zi.

Hailan4ever: Ooh, checking it out now! 

Chapter Text

After Xiao Yan Zi was selected as a concubine of the Rong Jing Emperor and entered the Forbidden City, she quickly came to understand that life within the palace was anything but simple. It was as though she had left the outside world behind and entered the intricate Realm of Noble Women. And within this realm, there were countless rules.

For instance, on the third day of the week, concubines must wear blush rose robes.

"Who are The Silk Brocades?" Xiao Yan Zi asked one day as she walked around in the Imperial Gardens. 

"They are like concubine royalty of the court," Cai Xia trilled. 

"That one there," she gestured with a handkerchief, "is Xiang Guiren. She is one of the most simple-minded young ladies one might ever come across."

"And that one there," Cai Xia continued, pointing to another figure, "is Xin Pin. She is well-versed in everyone's affairs. That is why her hair is so voluminous, it's full of secrets."

"And evil takes shape in the form of Chen Zhi Hua, Empress Wen," Xiao Deng Zi murmured quietly, his gaze following a beautiful young woman who walked with an air of pride, smugness and self-assurance, her gaze as cold as jade, her steps as poised as a dancer. 

"How do I even begin to explain Empress Wen?" he continued, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Empress Wen is of unmatched beauty and grace," Gui Momo began with reverence.

"I have heard it said that her hair is worth a sum of ten thousand taels," one of the maids who worked at the Department of Internal Affairs chimed in. 

"Her favourite book is The Plum in the Golden Vase," Ji Shi Fu added in a wry tone. 

"One time, she met Lao Fo Ye during a carriage ride and she told her she was of fair disposition," Qing Er admitted. 

"One time, she struck me in the face...it was the most wondrous," Xiao Jin Zi exclaimed dreamily. 

"If you're a concubine of the Emperor, why are you of Han origin?" Xiang Guiren asked as she surveyed Xiao Yan Zi curiously after learning her family name. 

"Oh Heaven Xiang meimei, you cannot just ask people why they're of Han origin!" Xin Pin quickly intercepted. 

"Xiao Yan Zi, would you be so kind as to inform Huang Shang," Zhi Hua began at the banquet, her voice saccharine sweet as she sat beside the Rong Jing Emperor, lightly grazing his head, "that his hair, when styled and combed back in this manner, is the most appealing to the eye?"

One morning during daily greetings, Xin Pin rose to her feet, her hands trembling as she prepared to recite a chosen poetry verse before Zhi Hua and the gathered concubines. 

She cleared her throat before reading the title, "A Lament against Empress Wu Zetian."

"Why should Empress Wu Zetian have been allowed to trample about like a mighty Buddha whilst the rest of us were left to avoid being crushed beneath her colossal shoes?" she began, her voice wavering. 

"What made Empress Wu Zetian so superior, hm?" she continued, her tone growing more certain and determined.

"Was Consort Xiao not just as beautiful as Empress Wu Zetian? Was Consort Xiao not just as well-educated as Empress Wu Zetian? Did the people not favour Consort Xiao as much as they favoured Empress Wu Zetian? When did it become acceptable for one woman to rule over everybody? Because that's not what the Tang Dynasty was about!" her voice rising to a shout, a wild frenzy in her eyes. 

"WE SHOULD TOTALLY JUST STAB WU ZETIAN!" 

Later, Xin Pin sat with Xiao Yan Zi in the pavilion of the Imperial Gardens and broke down, confessing everything. 

"Two years ago Zhi Hua jiejie claimed that silver-gold hairpins were her signature adornment and forbade me from wearing them," Xin Pin started, her expression full of hurt. "Then for my birthday last year, Huang Shang gifted me this beautiful, exquisite silver-gold hairpin. But I was forced to feign indifference and it was truly heartbreaking."

She paused to take a deep breath. "And do you know that she is betraying Huang Shang and committing treason? Yes, she engages in a clandestine affair with He Shen in the chamber above the Hall of Supreme Harmony. I have never spoken a word of this to anyone because I am such a dutiful sister," she finished dramatically, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

Chapter Text

"This is Cheng Qian Gong where Imperial Noble Consort Yihuan resided," the tour guide began, gesturing to the grand palace before them as the group of tourists listened attentively. "She was said to be the most favoured concubine of the Rongjing Emperor and is buried with him in The Tomb of Triumph mausoleum, which is part of the Western Qing Tombs, 120 kilometers southwest from here."

"The Rongjing Emperor's choice of successor and Empress Dowager Duanyi's decision to have Imperial Consort Yihuan rather than herself buried with the emperor were cause for much speculation by contemporaries and historians," the tour guide continued into her megaphone, reciting from her well-memorised script.

"This is because the Jiayi Emperor's birth mother, Empress Xiaohuiren, held the relatively low rank as Consort Wen during her lifetime. By contrast, Imperial Noble Consort Yi was highly favoured by the Rongjing Emperor, and gave birth to four sons, three of whom lived to adulthood, and two daughters. Originally, it was expected that the Rongjing Emperor would choose one of Imperial Noble Consort Yi's sons to become his successor."

A murmur of intrigue spread through the group of tourists as they took in the palace's silent grandeur and snapped photos.

Xiao Yan Zi's favourite fruit is grapes. She finds the taste of persimmons disappointingly mediocre despite the great effort taken to acquire them in the past. Her biggest weakness is the powdered sugar dusting on peach blossom cakes. 

Her favourite colour is blue, the colour of freedom, the sky, and the sea. 

She gets excited every time there's a fireworks display in the palace. Her expression lights up like a child when the most magnificent pinks and purples and silvers and golds explode across the starry night sky. When they sneak out of the palace, she likes to watch shadow puppet plays on the street, especially the lighthearted ones with heroes who steal from the rich and give to the poor.

If she wants something from him, like another round of weiqi, she says his name with a playful lilt at the end, her voice rising like a song, her tone teasing and sweet, paired with a pout that makes her impossible to refuse.

She smells like an intoxicating blend of jasmine and heaven and her lips taste like candied hawthorn. 

She’d never admit it but she’s still a little afraid of the dark. When she sleeps at night, she curls up in a ball with a faint frown pulling at her mouth as if bracing herself against a world that has never felt entirely safe. Her expression only softens when he holds her close in his warm embrace and she snuggles into his chest with a contented sigh. 

And sometimes, when he’s on top of her, whispering against her ear, "you’re so beautiful, I want you, only you," like it’s the only truth he’s ever known, like she's brighter than every star, sweeter than the rarest blossoms, the most exquisite ending to a sonnet that even the great poets cannot compose, she gets a delicate look in her eyes, as if she can hardly believe his words, as if he's the only real thing that she will ever need. 

Chapter Text

Yong Qi could hardly concentrate at the banquet that evening, not when in the morning Xiao Yan Zi had whispered tantalisingly in his ear what would be waiting for him later that night. When the banquet finally ended, he practically ran back to Jing Yang Gong. 

When he reached the bedchamber and opened the door, the sight before him took his breath away. Xiao Yan Zi lay in the bathtub, surrounded by delicate rose petals, her hair styled in two innocent braids, her arms resting on the edge of the tub. Her eyes sparkled as she met his gaze.

"Wow..." he murmured, completely mesmerised.

"Do you like it?" she asked softly, shyly glancing down, her cheeks as rosy as the petals that surrounded her.

"You look...even better than in my dreams," he breathed.

For a long while he stood frozen in place, taking in the sight of her. 

"Um, are you going to stand there and look at me all night?" Xiao Yan Zi asked with a teasing smile. 

He snapped out of his daze, shaking his head and slowly approached her. Kneeling down beside the tub, he raised a hand to gently caress her cheek, his fingers tracing a path down to her collarbone. Her breath hitched at the touch and she shifted slightly, causing the swell of her chest to become faintly visible beneath the water.

Leaning closer, he pressed his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck as he murmured, "Can I join you?"

Xiao Yan Zi nodded, her eyes still locked with his. With a grin, he quickly began to unfasten his robes while the speed at which he was doing this with made Xiao Yan Zi giggle. As he become completely bare, she blushed again deeply and dropped her gaze, pretending to busy herself with the flower petals in the water. 

He stepped into the tub, which was small but just big enough for the two of them. Wrapping his arms around her, he felt a thrill as her legs instinctively straddled him. He lifted her gently, her chest rising above the water and tilted her back against the tub. Flower petals scattered over her body as he kissed her breasts, the soft scent of roses filling the air.

"This is better than my dreams," Yong Qi murmured softly, as her body responded to his every touch. He continued to explore her with his lips, his voice filled with awe as he whispered, "You look so good...you feel so good, Xiao Yan Zi..."

Suddenly, Xiao Yan Zi shifted in his arms and rose from the water, making him nearly lose his balance. "Wait!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "These are the same flowers from the Imperial Gardens that were picked last time! What if I attract bees again tomorrow?" she cried. 

She started to move to get out of the tub but Yong Qi quickly caught her wrists, unwilling to let the moment slip away. "It’s okay, it won’t happen again. Not unless you spin around and stand there for a long time."

She shot him a skeptical look. "How do you know?"

"Alright, if it does happen I’ll let the bees sting me instead, happy?" he said with a smirk as his hands held firmly onto her waist, his desire, bordering on desperation, to keep her in the water all too clear.

Xiao Yan Zi giggled as she let him pull her back down. Her legs wrapped around him once more as her hands slid to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer as he claimed her lips in another sweet, intoxicating kiss.

Chapter Text

You showed me colours you know I can't see with anyone else
And you know damn well
For you, I would ruin myself
A million little times

Ever since they were children, Yong Cheng had always taken what his younger brother had wanted. In the classroom, when Ji Shi Fu asked a question, Yong Cheng would smugly offer the answer even though it was Yong Qi's hand that had shot up first. It was Yong Cheng who claimed his seat to watch the palace fireworks, the golden sword he coveted during martial arts practice, even the pretty maid who Yong Qi had once taken a fancy to.

When Qian Long passed away unexpectedly without a clear successor, it was Yong Cheng who ascended to the throne, bolstered by the support of his mother's powerful clan. At the time, Yong Qi was too humble to realise that it was yet another thing his brother had taken from him that was supposed to be rightfully his.

So he should have seen it coming, in a twist of cruel fate or wondrous kismet, when he accidentally shot a girl in blue with startling large eyes in the hunting grounds with his arrow, he should have known that she would never be his. Because just like everything else, whether she wanted to or not, she would fall into the grasp of his brother.

The afternoon sun filtered through the pavilion in the Imperial Gardens while the air swirled with the scent of blooming magnolias. The stillness was only interrupted by the occasional chirp of a bird and the distant bustle of servants going about their duties.

Yan Fei stood alone, her thoughts far from the beauty of her surroundings. She barely noticed Rong Qin Wang approaching until he cleared his throat. She glanced in his direction for a moment before turning back to the greenery.

"I gather Yan Fei Niang Niang was quite occupied last night," he said in a low murmur.

She sniffed. "Has Wang Ye nothing better to do than to trace the whereabouts of the emperor's women?" she asked, her eyes still on the landscape.

"I wasn't," he replied coolly. "I went to Qian Qing Gong to deliver a report to my dear Huang Xiong. I assume the door of the bedchamber was not properly sealed because I could hear your cries of Huang Shang from the study," he said in the driest and most even of tones, but his eyes burned at her with something unreadable.

He glanced around the garden before moving closer, his voice a hushed taunt. "It was quite the performance."

She stared at him but he merely looked back at her impassively. Realisation flashed over her eyes as colour rushed to her cheeks.

"If you’re suggesting I was pretending to- " she started in a fluster before forcing herself to recover. "How dare you even eavesdrop and then speak of such private matters- " she began again, but the amused glint in his eyes caught her off guard. "How would you even know?" she demanded finally.

He smirked. "Because I can tell the difference."

She sucked in her cheeks, lowering her voice so low he had to strain to hear. "And how do you know I’m not pretending with you, too?"

He held her gaze, steady, calm and unwavering. "Because," he began softly. "I know you can never pretend about anything with me."

She inhaled sharply, unable to form a response.

”Indulge me,” he whispered. “Do you ever think of me when you’re with him? Is that the only way you can find…satisfaction?" He leaned in closer, his breath tantalisingly close to her neck. "Because last night, when you uttered only the first part of his name, a name you never call him by...tell me, was it truly his name that was on your lips?"

Her eyes widened as her face flushed again. “You need to leave,” she snapped.

He gave a knowing smile as he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there watching him go.

Later, when she's on top of him, he sits up suddenly and catches her wrists.

"Xiao Yan Zi, I cannot do this anymore,” he utters, his voice raw and heavy with something perilously close to desperation. “Whatever this is, this charade, that conversation in the pavilion, pretending I don’t care.”

She stills, her mouth still parted in a soft gasp.

"Because the truth is I care, I care so much about you, I've been waiting for you, it is why I have not accepted any marriages bestowed upon me,” he continues. “I cannot bear to share you any longer, every time I imagine you with him I- "

He lets out a shaky breath before beginning again. “It is laughable that I long for the throne not because of power, gold, or the entire jiangshan, but just so I can have you.”

She stares at him as he grasps her hands tighter and looks at her with an expression so sincere she can hardly breathe.

"Run away with me," he whispers.

She closes her eyes like the world is ending as the words hang between them.

"You know I cannot. I could never leave Mian Hui,” she says finally in a quiet voice. “You must know that is why I need to keep Huang Shang’s favour. It is all for him, to make sure he is safe.”

"We can take him with us, I'll raise him as my own," he replies earnestly. “We can go to Hangzhou, Dali, anywhere you want. We’ll find a siheyuan, open a bookstore, have two children, wake up next to each other every morning.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lowers his head to press a reverent kiss to the scar where his arrow once struck her, as if that would make her entirely his, like he is entirely hers. She murmurs softly and arches her back, cradling him against her.

She wraps her arms around his neck and bites her lip. "It’s too much to think about right now. Can't you just make love to me, Yong Qi?" she whispers, her large eyes wide and pleading. "Can't it be just like this?"

His answer is quiet but unyielding. "No, I can't. It can't," he says flatly, because he can never tell her anything but the truth.

"Why not?" she asks, her tone insistent bordering on petulant, her lip quivering.

But before he can tell her why, she kisses him hard to stop him from saying what she already knows, swallowing breathy gasps from his mouth and stealing those three words from his heart.

And because he can never say no to her, when he finally says it, when he exhales the truth against her skin, when he murmurs it into the heat of her core, when he whispers it deep into her soul as he buries himself in her, she comes undone with his name on her lips, unravelling in his arms, breaking apart because of him, ruining herself for him, a million little times over.

Chapter Text

The soft early morning light peeked through the trees in the side garden next to Yong Shou Gong. Six-year-old Mian Yi sat on a stone bench, kicking his little legs back and forth as he nibbled on a fluffy mantou. Beside him, his sister Nan Er did the same as she swung her feet.

"Er Di, do you always eat breakfast here alone?" she asked, tilting her head curiously as their nannies kept watch from a distance away. 

He shrugged, tearing his mantou into tiny pieces. "Only when it’s warm. Sometimes I eat with E'Niang inside."

Nan Er took a thoughtful bite of her own bun. "You don’t eat with Huang Ah Ma?"

Mian Yi’s small hands paused mid-motion as if the thought had never occurred to him. "No. Does he eat with you?"

She nodded. "If I get up in time. He always turns back to wave at me from the gate when he heads to morning court."

He furrowed his brows, deep in six-year-old contemplation. "I've never seen Huang Ah Ma in the morning time. Only when he stays for dinner with me and E'Niang and then he sometimes tucks me into bed."

Nan Er propped her chin on her hands. "Hmmm…maybe he doesn’t like the breakfast here?"

"You think so?" he asked. 

"Maybe he likes the sweet buns in our kitchen better," she declared confidently.

Mian Yi's expression brightened. "Then if we ask the cooks here to make the same sweet buns, do you think he'll stay for breakfast?"

Nan Er clapped her hands together as if her younger brother had just solved a great mystery. "Yes! That’s a great idea! I'll ask our cooks for the recipe!"

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi was braced on her hands, breaths quick and cheeks flushed as Yong Qi leaned in behind her, his gaze tracing the soft curve of her back, his pace relentless. They were only a few weeks into their marriage and this was the first time they had tried this position - a discovery Yong Qi was fast declaring nothing short of glorious…until Xiao Yan Zi suddenly reached back and stilled him with her hand. 

“Wait, Yong Qi,” she gasped. “This is hurting my knees!” she exclaimed indignantly with a sniff, gesturing down at the hard wooden bed.

She flopped onto her side dramatically with a huff while he pulled back with a reluctant groan, visibly disappointed. He stroked her hips lazily for a moment before reaching for her legs to kiss her knees but the next second, Xiao Yan Zi slid off the bed. 

“Xiao Yan Zi, come back,” Yong Qi mumbled as he tried to pull her back by her waist. “Where are you going?" 

She padded over to her chest of drawers and rummaged as she hummed to herself before turning back with a triumphant look. She held up her old easy kneeling pads, dangling them between her fingers innocently as she sauntered back across the room.

Xiao Yan Zi climbed back up and draped herself across the bed in her naked form while fastening them on with a flair that was frankly more seductive than necessary. Yong Qi swallowed hard, watching as she positioned herself again and stuck out her behind, looking at him with a mischievous smile.

Soon he began to move against her again, every motion tuned to the sway of her hips and the breathy sounds from her throat. 

“Xiao Yan Zi,” he gasped between breathless kisses against her shoulder, “you feel so good...”

It wasn’t long before her hands were clutching the sheets and soft moans escaped her lips as the pleasure crashed over her. Yong Qi held her through it, murmuring her name like a prayer as he chased his own release and followed her over the edge.

They collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs and laughter. 

“Xiao Yan Zi,” Yong Qi began, voice muffled as he pressed his face into her hair, “you know that I can never look at you wearing those on your knees in public ever again without imagining you in only these and getting...excited, right?" as she giggled naughtily into his chest.

Chapter Text

Xiao Yan Zi skipped into the persimmon orchard, her two plaits dancing in the air, eyes lighting up as she looked around. "Wow! These persimmons are so red and ripe!" she exclaimed, reaching up to pluck one from a branch.

Yong Qi appeared moments later, jogging over to her.

"Look, Yong Qi!" she turned, holding up the fruit like a prize.

But instead of admiring the persimmon, Yong Qi was looking only at her. “Xiao Yan Zi,” his voice quieter and softer now, “we’re finally alone since we've been on the run…wouldn’t you rather do something else?”

She blinked at him, puzzled. “What?”

He smiled affectionately at her and stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. After glancing around the orchard, he leaned in and kissed her, soft and gentle at first, but the kiss deepened as he pulled her into his arms. Her doe-eyes widened before she instinctively parted her lips and wrapped her arms securely around his neck, the orchard falling away around them. 

It was more passionate than any kiss they had shared before, though he still held back, careful not to overwhelm her. The persimmon slipped from her hand and thudded softly into the grass, long forgotten. 

Chapter Text

"Are you alright?" Yong Qi asked as he drove through the city lights and glanced over at Xiao Yan Zi. "You've been quiet."

 "I'm fine."

When he looked at her again, she sighed before conceding. "You know that role that I auditioned for a few weeks ago, the one in Director Su's third film, The Right Smile? A sequel of sorts to The Left Ear? The small role where I'd be playing Yang Zi's younger sister?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well," she began, "my agent called today and basically said I more or less got the role."

Yong Qi turned to look at her as his face lit up instantly. "Xiao Yan Zi, that's amazing news!" he said, reaching out to squeeze her knee. But then he frowned a little as he saw the hesitation in her face. "Why aren't you happier?"

Xiao Yan Zi bit her lip but didn't say anything. Yong Qi pulled into the car park and turned to face her in the passenger seat, waiting patiently. 

She took a breath and looked down as she fidgeted with her sleeve, looking uncharacteristically shy. “In this film, there’s a…sex scene. That I would have to do,” she explained awkwardly, still not meeting his eyes.

Yong Qi didn’t say anything right away which only made her more flustered.

"I’ve done kissing scenes of course," she went on quickly, filling the silence. "But never a sex scene. Although I did read the script and it’s relevant to the plot and doesn't seem gratuitous. And Director Su has a good reputation and he’s respectful and thoughtful with how he films this kind of thing," she continued, now almost breathless. "But I thought I should check with you because if you’re not comfortable with it then I won’t do it, especially now that we're married- "

“Xiao Yan Zi.”

She finally looked up and met his eyes.

Yong Qi took his arm off the steering wheel and shifted towards her. “You know you don’t really need to ask for my permission to do this, right?” he said softly, his gaze steady and his expression reassuring. 

Xiao Yan Zi only stared at him with her large eyes. 

“Look,” he said as he gently took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. “This seems like a big opportunity for you. And if you trust Director Su and the script, and if you’re comfortable with doing it, then you should definitely take it.”

She searched his face. “You’re really okay with it?” she asked uncertainly. 

“As long as you’re okay with it. I trust you one hundred percent,” he answered. "Plus, my older sister He Jing was a huge Xiao Hu Dui fan and Guai Guai Hu was her favourite so she'll actually kill me if you didn't take this and invite her to the premiere," he joked dryly. 

Xiao Yan Zi let out a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing before a small smile crept onto her face. “Okay. Then I think I…I might take it,” she said, her voice steadier now. 

“Good,” Yong Qi said with a soft smile, leaning over to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’m really proud of you.”

A few months later, as they lay in bed in the soft stillness of morning, Xiao Yan Zi shifted slightly, her cheek resting against Yong Qi’s chest.

"Yong Qi?"

"Hmm?"

“Um, we're filming the scene today,” she said quietly. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this or if you even wanted to know.." 

Yong Qi glanced down at her, brushing his fingers gently through her hair. “Oh. How are you feeling about it?”

“Alright, I suppose. A bit nervous,” she admitted, her voice muffled against him.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said, his tone calm and reassuring. “But if you’re uncomfortable in any way you should let people know, okay? You don’t have to push through anything that doesn’t feel right.”

Xiao Yan Zi nodded slowly, her fingers clutching lightly against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Thank you,” she said softly as Yong Qi pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

She smiled faintly, holding on to the warmth of him for a moment longer before the day began.

When Xiao Yan Zi returned to the apartment from filming that day it was already almost midnight. Yong Qi was still in the living room looking over some manuscripts for work. 

"Hey," he said, standing up and walking toward her as she entered the door. "I ordered some dianxin for you, I thought you might be hungry."

"Hey," she answered softly, her voice a little uncertain. "Thanks." 

"How was your day?" he asked gently.

"It was fine."

"Good," he said with a smile.

When he didn’t ask anything else, Xiao Yan Zi hesitated for a moment before adding, “Everything was okay…I mean, as well as it could be. It was awkward obviously, but I felt, you know, relatively comfortable and safe.”

Yong Qi simply smiled again before stepping closer and pulled her into a gentle embrace before pressing a light kiss to her lips.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said softly.

Xiao Yan Zi let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest.

“Love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too,” he replied as he rested his chin against her head and kissed her hair. 

Chapter Text

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting silver light across the rooftops of Yi Kun Gong. 

When Yong Qi walked to the main bedchamber, he saw Zhu Ying's dowry maid Jiu Zhu slipping out of the room. She stopped hastily and dipped into a low curtsy. Her headdress was slightly askew and wisps of hair had fallen out of place.

When he entered the bedchamber, Zhu Ying was seated in her usual spot. She looked up at him with practiced calm but a faint pink coloured her usually pale cheeks. 

"I realise I am early today. The meeting with the officials finished quicker than expected," Yong Qi said. 

"Of course, Huang Shang," Zhu Ying replied smoothly. "I was just catching up on some reading."

She gestured to the book and his gaze followed hers. The pages were open but the text was unmistakably upside down.

A pause followed as Zhu Ying realised it the same moment he did. Her eyes flickered a fraction and Yong Qi could practically see her weighing the options in her mind: correct it and draw more attention, or ignore it altogether. She chose the latter.

"Well, I am rather tired and would like to retire for the night,” he said mildly.

Zhu Ying nodded mutely. Yong Qi's mouth twitched as she proceeded to extinguish the candles in the room without another word.

Chapter Text

The willow trees swayed gently as a breeze rustled through the garden. In the shade of the pavilion, Xiang Guiren and Xin Daying reclined gracefully in their chairs, a porcelain tea set laid neatly between them.

“I heard Huang Shang visited meimei’s bedchamber for the first time,” Xin Daying said smoothly.

Xiang Guiren let out a soft, theatrical giggle before raising her teacup with elegant poise. “Yes, that is correct,” she said demurely, eyes flickering sharply with triumph.

“And?”

Xiang Guiren smiled smugly. “I would like to think I thoroughly pleased him.”

“I would like to congratulate you, meimei. I am glad for you,” Xin Daying trilled, though she was not looking entirely glad. 

Xiang Guiren’s forehead creased slightly before hesitating. “But…” she began.

Xin Daying leaned in eagerly, now intrigued. “But what?”

She sighed, conceding. “Huang Shang didn’t kiss me, not even once,” she admitted in a petulant tone. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Xin Daying exhaled slowly as though she’d been expecting this. “Huang Shang doesn’t kiss anyone,” she replied matter-of-factly. “We think perhaps he isn’t fond of it.”

Xiang Guiren frowned. “Not fond of kissing?”

Xin Daying lowered her voice. “Not on the lips or other courtesies…further down.”

There was a pause.

Xiang Guiren’s mouth pursed into a thin line. “I see. Perhaps Huang Shang thinks it’s beneath him as emperor to give such pleasure.”

Xin Daying gave a slow, thoughtful nod. They drank their teas in silence for a moment. 

Then Xiang Guiren asked, “Do you know whose tile he flipped tonight?”

Xin Daying sighed with practised boredom. “Yi Fei.”

Xiang Guiren’s expression twisted. “Her? Again?” she nearly shrieked before catching herself and lowering her voice. “She’s heavily pregnant. What could he possibly enjoy about that?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Yi Fei knows how to keep favour with those tricks of hers and she’s not letting that child in her belly slow her down,” Xin Daying muttered.

“My maid heard from an old momo who once served at Ci Ning Gong that when Yi Fei was still a Ge Ge, she used to host extravagant banquets at her old palace residence,” she continued. “Huang Shang would often attend and they would all drink, unchaperoned, until they were completely delirious, sometimes well into the early hours of the morning.”

She leaned in closer, her tone thick with malicious implication. “The momo said Huang Shang’s grandmother, the Empress Dowager, dragged Yi Fei back to Ci Ning Gong more than once to punish her for such impropriety. She was fiercely opposed to their union and yet, she suddenly changed her mind one day. One doesn’t have to think too hard to guess why.”

Xiang Guiren let out a scandalised gasp. “You mean Yi Fei may have deliberately gotten Huang Shang drunk and seduced him? So he’d have no choice but to marry her?”

Xin Daying gave a knowing nod. “Don’t you know Da Ge Ge was born exactly nine months after their wedding? Isn’t that a bit too convenient?”

“So you’re saying Yi Fei tricked her way into his bed, carried his child and forced the marriage?” Xiang Guiren whispered, eyes wide.

“There’s more to prove it,” Xin Daying added. “The momo also said that after the wedding night, the white silk taken to Ci Ning Gong for inspection was pristine. Not a mark on it. Who knows if it was even Huang Shang who took her maidenhead. Whatever the case, it’s clear she was not pure when she entered that bridal chamber.” 

Xiang Guiren’s eyebrows arched so high they threatened to disappear past her forehead. She quickly pulled out her embroidered handkerchief and dabbed at her temples, as though the sheer nature of the scandal had left her faint.

"So what tactic do you think she is playing now?" she asked. 

Xin Daying's expression of disdain changed into dark fascination. “Well, my maid said Cheng Qian Gong received an enormous delivery of eggs recently. A lot of eggs, far more than a kitchen needs.”

“Eggs?” Xiang Guiren repeated, puzzled.

Xin Daying leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I read about it once in an old manual of bedchamber arts. It’s called the fan dance. A woman balances herself over half a dozen eggs and with careful movements uses her body to create enough motion to fan open paper money placed beneath the eggs. All without breaking a single shell.”

Xiang Guiren’s eyes lit up with scandalised realisation. “But why would one do that?”

“To train precision,” Xin Daying said delicately. “The idea is that if you can master that kind of finesse, that kind of control…it brings great pleasure to the man.”

Xiang Guiren’s eyes widened. “Do you think it works?” she asked incredulously. 

“It must, surely.” Xin Daying answered. “How else do you explain why he keeps going to her? Night after night, even now when she’s as round as a watermelon?”

The two concubines sipped their tea again in contemplative thought.

While they were having lunch at Qian Qing Gong, Yong Qi asked, “do you know why there’s been a sudden increase in egg orders throughout the inner palace?”

Zhu Ying nearly choked on her soup. She quickly composed herself and set her bowl down slowly. 

“Answering Huang Shang,” she began, hesitating, “it may have something to do with gossip again. About Xiao Yan Zi.”

Yong Qi sighed. “Do I even want to know?”

When Zhu Ying didn’t immediately reply, he raised an eyebrow at her, prompting her to continue.

“Well,” she began in a rush, eyes fixed firmly on the table, “some of the concubines seem to believe that Xiao Yan Zi uses eggs to…practise enhancing her skill in the bedchamber. And now several others have started ordering eggs as well, hoping to…gain more of your favour.”

Yong Qi stared at her, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Should I even ask why it's eggs?” he said faintly.

Zhu Ying shook her head, her ears turning pink with embarrassment. To spare her further mortification, Yong Qi let the matter drop.

“Yes, right there, Yong Qi! Right there, that feels so good,” Xiao Yan Zi moaned softly.

She was lying on her side on the bed as Yong Qi gently massaged her lower back, letting out a satisfied sigh as he hit the exact spot where the ache had been bothering her most.

“Feeling better?” he asked. 

“Much.”

He laid down behind her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand resting tenderly on the swell of her belly.

“You don’t have to stay with me almost every night,” she murmured. “Especially now that we can’t do anything.”

He pressed a kiss to the curve of her ear. “I want to. I want to make you as comfortable as possible before the baby comes.”

“Surely you'd feel more comfortable if your needs were also being met,” she said wryly. 

“I just want to be with you,” he answered simply, voice soft with sincerity.

Xiao Yan Zi gave a playful huff. “Well, you haven’t had me for two months. Wouldn’t you prefer to go to one of the other palaces where the others can actually serve you or whatever?”

“Two months and seven days,” Yong Qi corrected with a smirk. “But still, I’d rather be here with you,” he said gently.

She sighed into his arms before reaching over to grab a small plate by the bedside. Popping a dessert into her mouth, she chewed happily.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Egg tart,” she mumbled through a mouthful. “Been craving them lately.”

A look of realisation crossed Yong Qi’s face. “Is that why the kitchen’s been ordering so many eggs?” he asked slowly.

Xiao Yan Zi nodded, already reaching for another tart. Yong Qi bit back a chuckle. 

“What?” she asked, her mouth full. 

“Nothing,” he said, laughing again. “I love you. Don’t ever change, alright?”

“Not even if you wanted me to,” she retorted without missing a beat.

Xiao Yan Zi curled back into bed and Yong Qi shifted down beside her, his head resting lightly against her belly.

“What shall we call this one?” she asked softly. 

“How about Zhuang Min?”  

“You’re sure it’s a girl?” she asked in amusement. Then she hummed gently in contemplation.

“Alright, I like it. Hi, Min Min,” she whispered as Yong Qi pressed a tender kiss to her stomach.

Chapter Text

The day of the unveiling of the imperial portraits by Lang Shi Ning stirred great excitement throughout the palace. Huang Shang, Huang Hou and all the concubines gathered beneath the shade of silk canopies in the Imperial Garden where the covered portraits stood in a neat row.

As Huang Shang stepped forward and ceremoniously drew back the drapery covering the portrait of himself and Huang Hou, a collective gasp of awe rose from the crowd. The likeness was striking and the style regal as applause broke out immediately. One by one, the other portraits were revealed. Xin Pin’s smile turned smug as her portrait was unveiled.

The subjects in attendance bowed and congratulated Huang Shang, Huang Hou and Lang Shi Ning as the ceremony concluded with a triumphant chorus of “May Huang Shang live for ten thousand years!”

“Portrait 113, The Rongjing Emperor and Empress Xiaoshuren in Court Attire, 1769, shows significant wear and tear,” the archivist dictated, her voice echoing through the otherwise silent grand hall of Shou Huang Dian. “We'll let the conservator take a look to see if further damage can be prevented.”

Her assistant typed notes into a laptop as the archivist stepped over to the next painting.

“Portrait 114, Yi Fei, Concubine of the Rongjing Emperor in Court Attire, 1769, is still in good condition,” she noted briefly.

Then she stepped to the final portrait, lifting her magnifying glass for a closer look.

“Portrait 115, Xin Pin, Concubine of the Rongjing Emperor in Court Attire, 1769, is beyond repair,” she said, examining the flaking surface. The woman's face was now cracked and faded, her features almost vanished. “Not even suitable for partial restoration. This one goes into archival storage.”

The archivist removed her white gloves and exhaled. “Alright, I’m starving. Let’s break for lunch.” 

“Huang Ah Ma! E’Niang!” Nan Er burst breathlessly into the dining hall of Cheng Qian Gong later that day, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she ran towards Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi who were seated at the table.

“I just came back from Yi Kun Gong. Look what I painted!” she announced proudly, holding up a sheet of paper.

Xiao Yan Zi took the paper while Yong Qi scooped their daughter into his lap. “It’s our family,” Nan Er explained, pointing eagerly at each figure. “That’s Huang Ah Ma, that’s E’Niang, that’s me and San Di and Si Di!”

Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi studied the painting carefully. The brushstrokes were messy and the figures inelegant but the warmth and love in the childish lines were unmistakable. Their smiles softened.

“And that’s Xiao Pian Zi in the sky,” Nan Er added matter-of-factly, pointing to a floating green and blue smudge above the scene.

“It’s beautiful, Nan Er,” Xiao Yan Zi said softly. “E’Niang loves it. But what is that giant black blob I’m holding?” 

Nan Er rubbed her nose. “Oh. That’s supposed to be Min Min but San Di bumped my elbow and I knocked over the ink pot.”

Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi both laughed.

“It’s wonderful,” Yong Qi said warmly, brushing a hand over his daughter’s hair. “We should have it framed and hang it on the wall.”

“There’s more!” Nan Er exclaimed, reaching into her sleeve and pulling out another painting. “This one is all my brothers and sisters, Er Di, San Di, Si Di, Min Min and baby sister Jing Jing.”

Yong Qi took the second painting and held it with both hands, his expression turning tender. His voice caught slightly as he said, “that’s beautiful, Nan Er.”

Beaming with pride, Nan Er nestled against his chest as Xiao Yan Zi glanced up at Yong Qi. Their eyes met, sharing a sweet smile full of love and gratitude, before turning their attention back to their daughter.

Chapter Text

It was raining on Daming Lake that November, the drizzle as fine as mist. In the pavilion, Qian Long sat with Yu He. 

With a low murmur, he reached across between them and let his fingers brush against her dæmon. Ming Ming, the small white fawn, startled at the contact and tried to move away, but Qian Long’s hand slid over the curve of the fawn’s neck, deliberate and experienced. Yu He gave a soft, involuntary shudder as the foreign feeling ran along her spine, thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

Later, as Qian Long eased Yu He down onto her bed, his leopard Yang Yang’s eyes glinted with anticipation. She crept toward Ming Ming who was shrinking backwards near the corner, legs trembling. Underneath Qian Long, Yu He gave into the flood of overwhelming sensations and surrendered completely to him, whether by choice or inevitability, she would never know. 

The night Yong Qi consummated his marriage with Zhi Hua, Ru Qiong lay stiffly on the floor, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Rui Hua, the meek lamb nestled close by. Though their humans were entwined together, Ru Qiong kept her distance and made sure not to brush against him. As she looked to the window, she suddenly caught sight of Que Er in in the distance, fluttering restlessly in agitated circles in the dark sky. The cheetah meowed and whimpered, her tone full of distress and longing. 

In the morning, Ru Qiong awoke to an unsettling sight: the gentle lamb had vanished. In its place, lay a spotted hyena, its eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. 

On their wedding night as Zhu Ying and Yong Qi lay in uneasy silence, they were surprised when Ru Qiong began a conversation with Dai Yu, Zhu Ying’s raven, who was perched on the windowsill on the other side of the room. 

As Xin Pin unfastened Yong Qi’s robes, her hand reached out towards Ru Qiong’s ruff with a light, careless touch. The cheetah answered with a warning growl, her eyes sharp and unblinking. Undeterred, Xin Pin’s hummingbird descended in a graceful flutter toward Yong Qi’s lap, its iridescent wings flickering with feigned innocence. But at that moment, Yong Qi shifted and the hummingbird missed its mark, instead landing on the edge of the bed. 

Forced to remain uncomfortably close to the bright little creature, Ru Qiong stayed tense and still. But the moment Yong Qi was done, she rose and padded silently to the far end of the room, putting distance between them for the rest of the night. 

As Yong Qi was presented with the tray of his concubines’ names for the night, his fingers begrudgingly moved to the new tile, Xiang Guiren. Beside him, Ru Qiong gave a quiet grunt of disapproval. With deliberate insistence, she leaned forward and licked the tile marked Yi Fei, nudging Yong Qi’s hand toward it with the tip of her muzzle.

When Yong Qi and Zhu Ying returned to the palace after a two week long ceremony at the temple, the concubines assembled in a row and curtsied before him. As Yong Qi raised his hand to bid them to rise, his gaze immediately found Xiao Yan Zi’s. 

At that moment, Que Er, forgetting every protocol and the warnings Xiao Yan Zi had given him about decorum, broke formation. The little finch darted toward Ru Qiong and gave the cheetah a quick, tender peck on its ear. Ru Qiong, despite herself, leaned into it with a low purr of contentment.

Xiao Yan Zi hissed at Que Er, who was still fluttering far too close to Ru Qiong and brushing his feathers against her, snapping her fingers sharply to call him back as her face flushed nearly as red as her dæmon. Yong Qi looked at both at his human Yan Zi and her bird with the most affectionate, helpless smile, a wave of warmth flooding through him like the feeling of coming home.

Chapter Text

A few days after the wedding, Zi Wei returned to the palace with Er Kang for a visit. Xiao Yan Zi and Zi Wei sat down in the receiving hall of Jing Yang Gong, chatting animatedly while outside in the courtyard, Yong Qi and Er Kang stood together under the late afternoon sun. 

“So,” Er Kang said with a smirk, clapping Yong Qi on the back, “how’s married life treating you?”

“Oh, very satisfactory,” Yong Qi replied with a matching smirk. “Though I could’ve done without that ghastly mix-up at the wedding.”

Both men shuddered as they momentarily relived the chaos of that night. 

“Especially since by the time Xiao Yan Zi made it back to Jing Yang Gong and everything was finally over, it was nearly dawn. We didn’t even have time to- ” Yong Qi stopped abruptly, his ears reddening. Then as an afterthought he muttered, “well, we certainly made up for it on the second night.”

Yong Qi gave a sheepish grin as Er Kang raised an eyebrow. 

“What about you?” Yong Qi teased.

Now it was Er Kang’s turn to look uncharacteristically flustered. “Zi Wei wanted to play her qin first. She wrote a song for me, it was a beautiful, very long song,” he said with a pained expression. “And then after we….you know, she got emotional and went to the study to write a poem about the whole thing. It was a very touching gesture, don’t get me wrong,” he trailed off in a strained voice as Yong Qi snorted. 

In the receiving hall, Xiao Yan Zi leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, how was it?”

Zi Wei blushed, lowering her gaze. “Er Kang was very considerate and gentle,” she murmured with a dreamy expression. 

“And you?” she asked softly in return. 

Xiao Yan Zi looked away, flustered. “It was fine. Very fine,” she said quickly, fidgeting with her sleeve.

Later that evening the four of them sat down together for dinner. 

“Looks like Xiao Pian Zi is settling in quite nicely at Jing Yang Gong, just like its owner,” Zi Wei said with a smile, gesturing toward the parrot as Yong Qi cast a fond glance at Xiao Yan Zi. 

As if on cue, Xiao Pian Zi chirped brightly, “Ge Ge ji xiang! Ge Ge ji xiang!” as the four of them laughed and clapped. 

Then the bird squawked again in a monotone register, “Yes, Yong Qi! Right there, Yong Qi! Yes, yes, yes!”

Zi Wei and Er Kang’s eyes immediately went as round as saucers. Yong Qi choked on his soup and coughed violently while Xiao Yan Zi turned a deep shade of scarlet.

She shot up from her seat in a flash and rushed over to the parrot. “You really are a bad thing!” she hissed, trying to cover its beak, as the other three collapsed into helpless laughter. 

Chapter Text

"Mistress! Mistress!"

Xin Pin’s dowry maid burst into the bedchamber with barely concealed excitement. Xin Pin, seated at the vanity, turned her head languidly.

"I just heard Huang Shang was at Yi Kun Gong last night," the maid said, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. 

Xin Pin arched a refined eyebrow. "Of course he was with Huang Hou. It was a full moon night."

The maid shook her head. "That is not all," she began breathlessly. "According to Xiao Jin Zi, not long after Huang Shang arrived, he left abruptly in a hurry and went straight to Cheng Qian Gong without another word! Xiao Jin Zi said Huang Hou Niang Niang looked positively distraught and couldn't even look at Huang Shang. She had to go to the window to catch her breath!”

Xin Pin set down her nail guard slowly. "Two women in one night?" she repeated incredulously. "That is rather unlike Huang Shang. He is vigorous, yes, and he clearly has stamina, but he has never done that before."

"I know Mistress always keeps Huang Shang well-satisfied when he visits this palace," the maid chimed in as she began brushing her mistress’ long hair while Xin Pin smirked at her own reflection, clearly pleased.

"But your servant wonders..." the maid whispered as she leaned in conspiratorially. "Xiao Jin Zi said he had heard noises and murmurs from inside and that both their robes were already rather dishevelled when Huang Shang left Yi Kun Gong. It was obvious they had begun to be intimate, yet Huang Shang still felt the need to leave. Perhaps...perhaps Huang Hou Niang Niang did not satisfy him enough." 

Xin Pin’s eyes widened as she looked at her maid sharply in the mirror. "You mean to say Huang Shang was unable to...perform?"

The maid nodded solemnly. "Why else would Huang Shang need to seek out Yi Fei immediately after? Clearly something was lacking."

"But Huang Hou is attractive enough, her features are delicate and noble. Why would Huang Shang not find her stimulating enough?" Xin Pin pondered thoughtfully. But then her expression darkened with a wicked kind of malice in her eyes.

She let out a soft, cruel laugh. "Although, perhaps Huang Hou is not dissimilar to this vase," she said, reaching out and touching the porcelain vase on her table, "beautiful, refined and elegant to look at - but terribly...empty, cold and frigid on the inside.” 

The maid nodded again in enthusiastic agreement as she finished coiling her mistress’ hair into an elegant knot and angled a hand mirror behind her head. "I think that is exactly right Mistress." 

Xin Pin sniffed. "Even though he is the emperor, Huang Shang is still a man. And I suppose all men prefer women like Yi Fei who are well-versed in bedchamber arts and knows how to please a man between her legs. Women like Huang Hou are too dignified, too proper, too dull.”

She sighed dramatically, her fingers brushing her cheek as she admired her reflection once more. "How tragic. To be the most powerful woman in the empire and yet not enough to hold her husband’s attention in the one realm where it truly matters. No wonder there has been no movement on the issue of heirs for so long."

Her maid spoke up brightly. "Who knows how long she will remain empress?" she sneered. "With your recent elevation and your father’s growing influence at court, I'd say Mistress' prospects are very promising."

Xin Pin’s eyes gleamed. "You really believe so?"

The maid nodded eagerly, her face lit with loyalty and ambition.

Xin Pin’s crimson lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile as she dabbed a heady perfume onto the porcelain skin of her décolletage. 

"Then we shall wait and see," she murmured, her eyes glimmering with anticipation at the mirror. 

Chapter Text

It was Xiao Ma Zi’s first week working at Qian Qing Gong and already his head was spinning.

“So every night once you know which concubine’s tile Huang Shang has flipped,” Xiao Jin Zi began briskly, “and whether she’s been summoned here to Qian Qing Gong or whether Huang Shang will be visiting her palace, then you act accordingly.”

Xiao Ma Zi nodded, trying to keep up.

“If the concubine is summoned here, your job is to make sure everything is in perfect order and runs seamlessly,” Xiao Jin Zi continued, “The maids will prepare the central bedchamber and the last step is for you to light the incense unless Huang Shang specifically says not to.”

He raised a finger. “Under no circumstances are you to light it for Huang Hou or Yi Fei. Got it?”

Xiao Ma Zi blinked in confusion but nodded again.

“If it is Xin Pin who is serving Huang Shang,” Xiao Jin Zi went on, his tone even faster now, “then you must light the incense every time and add a small extra dose. No more than a pinch.”

“But…why? What’s in the incense?” Xiao Ma Zi asked before he could stop himself.

Xiao Jin Zi spun around in exasperation. “First rule of being a eunuch in the palace: never ask why. Just do as you’re told, especially if the order comes directly from Huang Shang.”

“Right, yes of course,” Xiao Ma Zi answered hastily. 

“For Huang Hou,” Xiao Jin Zi went on, “make sure there are extra blankets on the bed. Once the maids finish preparing the bedchamber, you should do a final sweep to make sure there are no suspicious objects or anything out of place. Then you light the incense and leave quickly.”

He then rattled off the next part in a monotone voice.

“The concubine serving Huang Shang for the night will be carried into the central bedchamber by eunuchs wrapped in a quilt. She will be completely bare beneath it to prevent any chance of harm to Huang Shang. She is to be placed at the foot of the bed and under no circumstances are you to look directly at her nor at Huang Shang. Once she has been laid down, you should withdraw immediately but remain stationed outside.”

Young Xiao Ma Zi looked like he was about to faint.

“After the act is done, Huang Shang will usually fall asleep like clockwork,” Xiao Jin Zi continued. “You’ll open the doors and let the maids enter the bedchamber to wrap the concubine back in the quilt. Then she’s to be carried out by the eunuchs to one of the side chambers to sleep.”

“How will I know when it’s time to go back in?” Xiao Ma Zi asked nervously.

“When there is no movement or noises from the chamber,” Xiao Jin Zi replied matter-of-factly. “After a while, you’ll learn to recognise the signs. Huang Shang has his habits. And certain concubines are more…vocal than others.” 

Xiao Ma Zi stared at him, his eyes wide in horror. 

“Note the exceptions,” Xiao Jin Zi said, holding up a finger again. “Huang Hou enjoys special privileges, she is not carried in but enters the bedchamber fully clothed. She stays the night and they are not to be disturbed. If Yi Fei is summoned to Qian Qing Gong, you must put her in the first western side chamber, not the central bedchamber. They are not to be disturbed either.”

Xiao Ma Zi’s face screwed up in concentration as he tried to commit everything to memory.

“So Xin Pin, extra incense,” he muttered, his brows furrowed as he counted on his fingers. “Huang Hou, extra blankets but no quilt. Yi Fei, western side chamber, no incense…”

He trailed off, frowning. “I thought Yi Fei was among the most favoured considering her title and the fact she has bore Huang Shang the most children, but Huang Shang does not even deem her worthy of using the central bedchamber or the special incense? And yet he favours Xin Pin by bestowing all that extra incense on her instead? Don’t you find all of that a bit odd?” 

Xiao Jin Zi gave him a long-suffering look. “What did I just say about asking questions?”

“Sorry,” Xiao Ma Zi said quickly, bowing his head sheepishly. “This is just so much more complicated than taking dumpling orders at my family’s restaurant back in Shandong, I mean there were only three kinds of fillings…”

Chapter Text

It was young Xiao Ma Zi’s second month working at Qian Qing Gong and he was finally getting into the rhythm of things. He still thanked the heavens every day that he hadn’t been beheaded for the incense mix-up during his first week, surely a miracle granted by his ancestors.

That afternoon he stepped into the imperial study carrying a tray where Huang Shang was sitting and reviewing documents.

“Huang Shang,” he greeted, bowing. “The Embroidery Bureau is commissioning clothing for Huang Hou Niang Niang in honour of your wedding anniversary,” he announced cheerfully. “Would Huang Shang like to select the undergarments you wish to bestow upon Niang Niang?”

He held up the tray of elaborate garments, each more alluring than the last, to the emperor’s face while wearing a bright and guileless smile.

Huang Shang looked at the tray then glanced away sharply. 

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, his voice carefully neutral as he turned back to his documents. “Just the commission the usual items and send it to her.”

“But Huang Shang- ”

Before he could finish, Xiao Jin Zi, who had been standing nearby, lunged forward and yanked Xiao Ma Zi back by the sleeve, silently throwing daggers at him with his eyes. 

Xiao Ma Zi, sensing something had gone terribly wrong, quickly bowed and scurried out of the study with Xiao Jin Zi close on his heels.

The moment they stepped outside Xiao Jin Zi smacked him hard on the head.

“What were you thinking?” he hissed.

“What?” Xiao Ma Zi protested as he rubbed his scalp in confusion.

“Do you think Huang Shang has nothing better to do than to select undergarments for his women?” Xiao Jin Zi snapped. “Have you ever once seen me do something that stupid?”

“But- but for Yi Fei’s birthday, didn’t Huang Shang personally pick out the undergarments to be bestowed upon her? And requested those embroidery patterns of the two swallows?” Xiao Ma Zi argued, looking bewildered. “So I thought for Huang Hou…” he trailed off weakly. 

Xiao Jin Zi let out an exaggerated sigh. “That was for Yi Fei only. If you last long enough here without losing your head you’ll come to learn that the rules for Yi Fei don’t apply to anyone else.”

He gave the younger eunuch a firm shove in the direction of the servants’ quarters.

“Now go. And for Heaven’s sake, don’t bring up the subject of undergarments to Huang Shang ever again!”

Sunlight crept gently into the empress’s bedchamber at Yi Kun Gong. Zhu Ying opened her eyes to see Jiu Zhu slipping out of bed, her bare form glowing in the summer morning light.

“Good morning,” Zhu Ying murmured contently, smiling as she watched Jiu Zhu dress. 

“Morning, xiaojie,” Jiu Zhu mumbled, looking a little dazed as if still hardly daring to believe these mornings were real and that the empress was hers. 

Jiu Zhu returned to the bedside carrying a selection of robes on her arm along with a tray in her hands. On it lay several finely embroidered, highly extravagant and very suggestive dudous.

“These were sent from the Embroidery Bureau. Huang Shang bestowed them upon you for your wedding anniversary,” she said a little too tightly. “Which one would you like to wear, xiaojie?”

She paused before blurting out, “do you think Huang Shang picked these out?”

Zhu Ying gave a soft, knowing chuckle. “I imagine he would very much prefer not to so I am quite sure that he did not.”

Jiu Zhu only nodded but her eyes flickered to the tray again.

“So…he’s never seen you in any of these? I mean…this summer has been so hot, surely you must not wear very much at all when he’s…lying beside you?” she asked with large, innocent eyes.

Zhu Ying reached out and pulled her gently back toward the bed. “I still wear my full set of nightclothes,” she replied simply. 

“I suppose that must be the case, since anyone who saw you in these garments would not be able to resist you,” Jiu Zhu said almost to herself. 

Her eyes widened when she realised she had said it aloud. She looked down quickly with an embarrassed expression, her cheeks flushing. “I am sorry xiaojie, you must think I get jealous so terribly easily even though I know I have no right to be…”

Zhu Ying shook her head affectionately and kissed her cheek.

“As for what I’ll be wearing today,” Zhu Ying started, changing the topic, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind Jiu Zhu’s ear, “which of these do you want to take off me tonight?” she asked softly. 

She gazed at Jiu Zhu with the sweetest desire in her eyes as Jiu Zhu looked back at her with a dazed expression before glancing down at the tray and pointing shyly to a dudou in royal blue. 

Zhu Ying smiled and held up the chosen dudou to let Jiu Zhu tie it on her, her breath catching as she felt Jiu Zhu pulling the silk strings taut, making the undergarment tighten against her skin.

Zhu Ying had once thought these imperial garments were rather a nuisance to wear. She had considered them uncomfortable, burdensome, constricting things that served as a constant reminder even the highest-ranking woman in the entire land existed to entice, to arouse, and ultimately to bear children for a man. But now there was something strangely thrilling about having it beneath her robes like a secret, knowing it would be Jiu Zhu’s soft hands unravelling it at night.

The royal blue satin dudou fit snugly across Zhu Ying’s bosom and the neckline dipped low, scandalously so. Golden peonies were embroidered lavishly across the front in fine thread while matching gold piping decorated the hem of the garment. 

It was tight enough that her breasts spilled a little out of the cut, heaving slightly with each breath, rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. Jiu Zhu, who once never allowed herself to look upon her mistress for too long, now could not help but stare helplessly as if mesmerised. 

Zhu Ying wrapped her arms around her, drawing her in with a tender smile. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss before Jiu Zhu pressed her mouth against the curve of her neck then down to the swell of her chest while her hands settled on either side of Zhu Ying’s waist, fingers pressing softly into the satin. 

“You should know, I wear this only for you,” Zhu Ying whispered between delicate moans against her ear. 

A radiant smile curved Jiu Zhu’s lips at these words as she gave her mistress one last kiss before stepping back to finish dressing her, both of them already counting the hours until night fell when they would be each other’s once more.

Chapter Text

Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi had not seen each other for over a month. Xiao Yan Zi had been filming her second television series in Hengdian. The success of Blossom Fairy Love had earned her a recurring role in Returning Jade, a remake of the beloved classic Qing dynasty costume drama produced by Watermelon TV. Meanwhile, Yong Qi had been buried in deadlines and meetings back in Beijing.

So when she got a day off from filming and Yong Qi happened to be in Hangzhou for a conference, she jumped straight into a taxi to the city.

"Xiao Yan Zi," Yong Qi groaned against her neck as they kissed tangled up on the hotel bed. "I've missed you like hell," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with longing. 

“I missed you too,” she whispered back breathlessly with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

As he pulled up her t-shirt, his fingers brushed against something smooth and silky. He paused before realising it was a very alluring crimson red dudou clinging to her body in all the deliciously right ways. His eyes immediately darkened with desire.

“I didn’t have time to change properly after filming,” Xiao Yan Zi murmured, her breath hitching as his fingers traced slow, maddening circles on her bare stomach. “And I thought...since you liked me wearing it that time, I left it on for you. Do you like it?”

A low growl escaped Yong Qi as his hands roamed around the garment while burying himself in the curve of her neck. “God, have I told you how much I love you being in costume dramas? Well, aside from the fact that Hengdian is so far away from Beijing.”

She giggled and lifted her arms to let him tug her t-shirt over her head. Then he captured her lips in a deep kiss while his hands worshipped every inch of her like he was memorising her all over again.

Just as Yong Qi moved to unbutton her jeans, his phone began to ring.

“Shouldn’t you get that?” Xiao Yan Zi asked breathily as his legs bracketed over her body and he leaned down to steal another kiss. 

“No, it’s fine...” he muttered against her lips.

The phone kept ringing insistently. With a frustrated groan, Yong Qi relented and reached over Xiao Yan Zi's head to grab it from the nightstand.

“Hello? Oh, Fu Zong, hi. ....Right, I see. Mmhm. Yes, I suppose I can jump on a call now.”

Xiao Yan Zi made a dramatic face and flopped back onto the pillows.

“Zhu Ying’s here in Hangzhou for the conference too. She's staying in the same hotel as me so I can go find her and we’ll both join together. Okay, speak in a bit.”

He hung up with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “That was Fu Zong, Er Kang’s dad. There's apparently some kind of logistics crisis that’s going to affect all The Palace Group subsidiaries. He needs us on an urgent call.”

He looked over at her with visible regret. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry.”

Xiao Yan Zi pouted and folded her arms, pretending to sniff. "Hmph, I suppose I’ll just have to finish by myself.”

Yong Qi groaned and dropped his head dramatically before leaning over to kiss her. “Wait for me. Please. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“Alright, fine. But I’m holding you to that,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

He sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling deeply.

“Aren’t you supposed to be finding Zhu Ying?”

Yong Qi cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “I just need a minute to...”

Xiao Yan Zi glanced down pointedly at his jeans and suppressed a giggle.

“I guess me still wearing this probably isn’t helping," she trilled innocently as she reclined seductively across the bed in her dudou.

Yong Qi gave her a helpless look. “No. No, it absolutely isn’t.”

After Yong Qi had calmed down, he walked a few doors down the hallway and knocked on Zhu Ying’s hotel room door.

A long moment later, she opened it, wearing nothing but a fluffy white dressing gown that was loosely fastened. Her long hair was damp and tousled and she looked a little breathless.

“Oh!” she gasped in surprise, instinctively clutching the collar of her robe over her chest. “I thought you were room service.”

Yong Qi’s eyes immediately dropped to the floor.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering your phone,” he said quickly. "Fu Zong just called. There’s some logistics nightmare at HQ. He needs all the directors to jump on a call ASAP. Are you free now?”

Zhu Ying subconsciously glanced over her shoulder. 

“Ying Ying…” a female voice rang out from the bathroom in an unmistakably flirtatious tone, bath water running in the background. “Did room service bring the champagne and strawberries? I’m waiting for you…”

Yong Qi raised an eyebrow.

Zhu Ying turned pink, the first time Yong Qi had ever seen her lose any sort of composure. “Jiu Zhu just got in this afternoon. It's our anniversary so we thought we'd spend the weekend in Hangzhou,” she explained a little sheepishly.

Yong Qi let out a low chuckle and relaxed his shoulders. "Yeah, Xiao Yan Zi and I kind of had the same idea."

Zhu Ying gave a small, embarrassed smile. “So um, I’ll meet you in the second-floor lounge in ten minutes?”

He nodded. “Sounds good, see you there.”

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since Er Kang and Xiao Jian rescued Zi Wei thankfully largely unharmed from the brothel. 

The hour was late and the boys had already gone to sleep. Xiao Yan Zi had just finished helping Zi Wei take a bath and was about to apply ointment on Zi Wei's wounds when she realised she couldn't fully read the writing on the bottles. Xiao Yan Zi almost instinctively asked Zi Wei for help, forgetting for a moment that she could no longer see. 

So instead, she padded over to the boys' room and knocked.

The door creaked open and there stood Yong Qi dressed in simple night clothes. He was still very covered up, but Xiao Yan Zi's eyes darted slightly as she had never seen him like this.

He blinked at her, his eyes half open, his expression groggy.

"Xiao Yan Zi," he murmured with a lopsided smile.

Before she could say a word, he reached out and slipped his arms around her waist as if it were the most natural thing before tucking her head into the curve of his neck. 

“Yong Qi?” she whispered. 

“Mmm...Xiao Yan Zi,” he groaned softly, the name muffled into her hair. His hands tightened around the small of her back, drawing her so close to him that she could feel his heartbeat, as he started trailing kisses down her collarbone...

“Yong Qi!” she yelped as she pulled back and slapped his forehead hard. 

“Ow!” he exclaimed, stumbling back and rubbing his forehead. He instantly let her go before blinking rapidly at her and then shaking his head like snapping out of a fog. “Oh…you’re- you're really here?”

“What do you mean ‘I’m really here’?” she snapped, her arms folded, her cheeks burning. “What do you think you were doing? If you think just because you were nice to me when I was distraught about Zi Wei that I'm going to let you take advantage of me you’re sorely mistaken! I'm not the kind of girl you can take such liberties with, you've got the wrong girl!" she sniffed.

“No of course not, I'm sorry,” He glanced at her, something more delicate in his expression amidst the confusion and sleepiness.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself and your caddish behaviour?" she demanded. "You know, you like to remind me that you're a prince so often but your actions are anything but princely!" 

"I really am sorry, I would never- " he began earnestly. “I- I thought it was a dream again," he explained sheepishly with an embarrassed look on his face. 

Her doe-eyes widened and the colour in her cheeks deepened as she realised the implication of what he said. She looked away quickly, visibly flustered.

Yong Qi cleared his throat. “So um, what did you need? It’s a bit late…”

She recovered after a moment before fumbling with her sleeve to pull out two ointment bottles. “I can't read what these say, I don't know which one to use for Zi Wei's wounds," she mumbled. 

Yong Qi squinted at the two bottles. "This one,” he said, pointing. 

“Right." 

There was a beat of silence.

“Well...good night, Yong Qi.”

“Good night, Xiao Yan Zi.”

She turned to go but then to his surprise, stepped back and quickly pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Xiao Yan Zi gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile with a hint of her usual mischievousness, then scurried away, her braid swaying behind her as she ran back to the girls’ room, leaving Yong Qi in the doorway touching his cheek with a slow grin spreading across his face.

Chapter Text

That evening, Yong Qi found Xiao Yan Zi perched on their bed with a midnight snack cupped in her palm.

“I thought after hawking a hundred of those you’d never want to see another persimmon again,” he remarked dryly. 

She huffed and ignored him before breaking open the orange fruit in half and biting into it with a slurp. Juice slipped down her mouth as she let out a soft, pleased moan.

“It’s delicious,” she declared, licking her lips.

Yong Qi let out an unsteady breath at the sight. 

“You’re making a mess on the bed,” he said in a strained voice. 

She caught the heat and desire in his gaze and smirked.

"Oh?" she said innocently as she brought a finger to her mouth and licked it clean suggestively while fluttering her lashes demurely at him. 

With a sparkle in her eyes, she held out the half-bitten fruit. “Want a taste?” she asked almost shyly, biting her lip.

With his heart beating fast and his eyes locked on her, he sat beside her and leaned in to bite. She moved forwards and their lips brushed, the fruit melting sweetly between their tongues. Before she could pull away, he kissed her deeper, open-mouthed and hungry, tasting the sugar in her mouth and something far more intoxicating. 

As he captured her lips, he tugged the ribbon on her already loose dressing robe free with one hand while the other trailed down to her thigh, tracing sticky circles against bare skin. She gasped softly, a tremble running through her as he laid her back against the sheets.

Slowly, he took the remaining fruit and ran it down the slope of her collarbone, over the soft curve of her chest, and down the flat pane of her stomach, leaving golden streaks in its wake. Her breath hitched and she moaned delicately as he followed the path with his mouth, licking and tasting the sweetness of the fruit and her until she was arching beneath him, radiant with delight.

“Yong Qi,” she whispered breathlessly as she gathered her arms around his neck. 

“You know,” he began, brushing his lips on her skin, “I can’t remember why I ever objected to you picking persimmons in the first place.”

She giggled and he kissed her again before going lower.

"But I think,” he murmured between kisses against her hip as he parted her legs, “I’ll enjoy the second course even more.”

Xiao Yan Zi tilted her head. He grinned and slid down until his mouth found her, already slick and glistening open for him. 

She tasted sweeter than any fruit.

Chapter Text

After Yong Qi and Xiao Yan Zi returned from the Bund, they barely made it through the door of Yong Qi’s apartment before their mouths and bodies found each other again, hands fumbling with fabric and buttons before falling together onto the bed. 

"Hold on," Xiao Yan Zi murmured breathlessly, reaching blindly for her phone and scrolling through it with one hand while the other steadied her against his chest.

Yong Qi blinked at her, his chest rising and falling.

"Uh, am I not exciting you enough?" he joked. 

Music floated through the speakers a second later.

"Is this Taylor again?" he asked warily.

“Yes,” she replied, a teasing smile on her lips as she straddled him, fingertips grazing his jaw. “But I think you’ll like this remix.”

“I just want you,” he breathed. 

She gasped as he pulled her down impatiently, tugging at his hair as the beat hit. 

Chapter Text

Beijing, 1884 (Guang Xu era, ninth year) 

Sixteen-year-old Xiao Yan Zi sat slumped behind the desk of her newly opened detective agency on one of the busiest streets in Beijing, 221 Bei Ke Jie, feeling more than a little disgruntled. 

It had been weeks since she had hung up the hand-painted sign reading Xiao Yan Zi, Private Investigator and not a single case had come through her door. Meanwhile her older brother Xiao Jian, the most sought-after detective in the city, was so swamped with clients that he had to turn down cases and she had barely caught a glimpse of him all month. 

Just as she was beginning to wonder whether all of this had been a terrible mistake, the door creaked open and a girl stepped inside.

“Excuse me,” the girl said, glancing uncertainly around the modest space. “Is this the detective agency?”

“Yes,” Xiao Yan Zi replied in a monotone voice, not bothering to glance up from the magnifying glass she was polishing. “My brother’s office is next door.”

“I didn’t come to see Xiao daxia,” the girl clarified quickly. “I came to see Xiao Yan Zi guniang.”

Xiao Yan Zi’s head snapped up. “Me?”

The girl nodded. “I need your help. My mistress has gone missing. She went to a daren's residence because she needed his help but it has been two days and she hasn’t come out of there. When I go there to ask about xiaojie the guards just push me away,” she stammered fretfully. 

She continued, her tone of great distress. “Please, I don’t know who else to turn to. Will you help me?”

Xiao Yan Zi stood up at once. “Of course, I'll get to the bottom of this and find your mistress, you can count on me. I'll take your case," she replied with a determined expression.

"What's your name?" 

“Jin Suo,” the girl with the heart-shaped face answered. 

Chapter Text

I’m on my guard for the rest of the world
(But with you, I know it's no good)
And I could wait patiently
But I really wish you would
Drop everything now


She hates that he knows her timetable so well. 

He’s always there, on Monday mornings waiting for her after Professor Ji’s class, leaning against the pillar with two bubble teas in his hands, on Wednesdays afternoons sitting opposite her in the library helping her with her social sciences paper (even though he’s a finance student because he’s just that annoying well-rounded overachiever), on Saturdays sitting on the bleachers watching her football matches, cheering her on. 

“Why are you always here?” she asks one day after he meets her after class. “The Finance and Management building is on the other side of campus.”

They’re sitting on the grass next to an oak tree. He’s reading Tolstoy and she’s scrolling mindlessly through Douyin, her converse shoes brushing against his jeans. 

“I come to see Zi Wei, my parents told me to keep a lookout for my little sister,” he replies without missing a beat, his eyes still on War and Peace. 

She sniffs slightly and returns to her phone. “I see.”

She hates the fact that he’s pinned to the top of her WeChat contacts.

It’s just practicality, a logistics decision really. She’s a very busy and in-demand person with over 500 contacts on her phone. Scrolling all the way down to “Y” every time she needed to message him was a waste of time. She always ends up scrolling too far, then having to go back up, then down again. Pinning him was the only choice that made sense. 

He sees it one day when he glances at her phone on the cafeteria table. 

“Wait, am I pinned to the top of your WeChat?”

Her eyes widen and for a second she considers refuting it entirely. “Why are you looking at other people’s phones? Ever heard of privacy?”

He only grins boyishly at her with amusement in his eyes. 

“I’m an extremely busy and popular person. I have a ton of extracurriculars, I don’t have time to scroll endlessly. It’s just a practical decision,” she adds defensively. 

“I see,” he says, annoyingly calm. “You’re pinned on mine too,” he adds in a softer voice.

“I am?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually. “It’s a practical thing too. I’ve got like twenty Xiaos in my contacts.”

She sniffs and turns away, mostly to hide the curve of her mouth.

She hates his stupid bright yellow bike.

Cars and scooters aren’t allowed on campus and bikes are faster than walking. He insists on taking her back to her dorm on his stupid fluorescent bike every time they stay out late after hotpot and KTV with friends. She rolls her eyes and says it’s not the eighteenth century. Still, she ends up perched sideways on the back of his tiny bike as he cycles though the alleyways to take her home.

“You’re going to fall off if you don’t hold on,” he says one night. 

“Whatever,” she mutters, grabbing onto his hoodie anyway.

The next time she sees him cycle past her on campus, his stupid bike is carrying someone else, some petite, pretty girl with her hair in a neat plait. 

The girl is resting her head against his back with arms looped around his waist like she belongs there. She’s smiling, sweetly and smugly.

It makes her want to throw up. 

He doesn’t mention it the next day and it irritates her more than she’d like to admit. By evening she’s so wound up she blurts out, “so when are you going to introduce me to your new girlfriend?”

He gives her strange look. “My what?”

“Your new girlfriend. The girl who was with you on your bike.”

He frowns for a second, then laughs. “Oh, no- that’s not what you think. I signed up for this buddy programme, third-years get paired with first-years from rural areas to help them settle in and show them around. Cai Lian injured her foot so I was taking her to the medical centre.”

He tilts his head. “Are you…jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she snaps back. “We’re just friends.” 

She hates how his voice turns into that of an adult sweet-talking a child. “You know you’re the only girl who gets to ride on the back of my bike, right?” he says teasingly. 

"Shut up." She sniffs and doesn’t say anything else, ignores the rush of warmth to her cheeks.

She hates his best friend and his sister.

She’s late to dinner one day and he’s already there with Zi Wei and Er Kang, the nauseatingly perfect couple. 

“Look, why don’t you just ask this Zhi Hua girl out on a date?” Er Kang says in that reasonable, condescending, holier-than-thou way of his. “I know your grandmother basically pushed her WeChat onto you but now that both families know, it’ll be awkward if you don’t at least add her, she’ll lose face. Just go on one date so everyone can stop nagging you about it.”

“I’ve met her, we have a literature class together,” Zi Wei chimes in. “She’s a first year and seems sweet but a bit shy. I think she was pushed into this whole thing too so you’re both in the same boat. I can talk to her for you if you want?” 

He doesn’t answer them and instead turns to her.

“What do you think?” he asks, his tone casual, his eyes challenging her.

She sniffs, raises her chin and says, “I totally agree,” her stubbornness, as always, winning out over what she wanted.

She hates how often she thinks about him. 

It’s the night of his date with Zhi Hua and she feels like she’s had five espressos. She’s sprawled on her bed doom-scrolling, as if her phone might suddenly offer a livestream of Jing Yang dorms and show whether he’s back from his date yet. 

She opens RED to stare at her profile again. 

There’s Zhi Hua, looking insufferable in pastel pink, her stupid satin headband placed just so on her glossy hair, her skin like a porcelain doll, her smile saccharine sweet. Melodramatic Zhi Hua in pointe shoes in a Swan Lake ballerina pose. Smug Zhi Hua in Paris in a demure pinafore dress receiving some art award. Pretentious Zhi Hua in hanfu with an obnoxious caption quoting a Tang poem.

She tosses her phone across the bed with a groan and kicks her legs up.

It’s 9:47pm when she finally caves and heads to his dorm, clutching two bubble teas and pretending she’s forgotten he had a date tonight.

She knocks on his door, biting her lip.

When he opens the door a moment later, something like overwhelming relief floods her - he’s already home. The date must’ve not gone well.

He’s in her favourite blue shirt of his and she smiles slightly in satisfaction when he’s surprised but clearly happy to see her. 

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey, can you help me with my sociology paper? I brought bubble tea,” she chirps. 

Before he can reply she glances into his room and her stomach drops.

Zhi Hua is perched on his chair across from his desk (the chair that she would always sit on when she’s waiting for him to finish his maths assignment so they can go and watch a movie), looking infuriatingly flawless in a rose pink dress.

To her horror her vision starts blurring and she involuntarily takes a step back. 

“Oh,” she whispers, swallowing hard, eyes falling to the two undone buttons of his shirt. “I didn’t realise you had company- ”

“No wait, I- ” he begins. 

But she was already running out of there, tossing the bubble teas in the nearest bin.

She sniffs all the way back to her dorm, determined not to cry.

She hates everything about him really. 

She doesn’t reply to his messages or phone calls and avoids him on campus for the next three days. She uses tennis lessons and her unsuspecting opponents to channel her rage. 

On the fourth day, there’s a knock on her dorm room at midnight. 

She opens the door and there he was in his hoodie with ruffled hair, looking all boyish and sleep-deprived and stupidly handsome.

“Hi, can we talk?” 

She folds her arms, unimpressed. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Zhi Hua?” 

“No, I only want to spend time with you,” he replies in confused earnestness. 

Her breath hitches for a moment and she lets him into her room. “So? What do you want to talk about?”

He takes a deep breath. 

“You know that day when you asked why I was always hanging around the Social Sciences building all the time? It wasn’t to see Zi Wei, that was such a lie. The truth is I wanted to see you, I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you all the time. And that time I was cycling with Cai Lian? Yeah, I was taking her to the medical centre but I was also kind of stupidly curious to see if you’d be jealous. And with Zhi Hua, god, I don’t like her like that at all. That night at dinner I was hoping you’d tell me not to go out with her. The whole time I was on that date with her, all I could think about was you, I can’t get you out of my head. She insisted on coming back to my dorm but nothing happened between us, I swear."

He pauses to take another breath.

"I just need you to know this because…I really like you, Xiao Yan Zi. I love your mangled takes on English idioms that always make me laugh, I love the way your nose scrunches when you're writing a particularly hard paper, I love the lilt in your voice and the pout of your mouth when you want a favour from me and I give in because I can never say no to you. I love your fearlessness, the smell of your hair, the depth of your eyes, the goodness of your heart. God, I think I love everything about you, even the parts that drive me crazy.” 

She only blinks at him and his monologue. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I…I think I love you, Xiao Yan Zi.”

“You do?” she asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft, her eyes even larger than usual.

"Yeah." He hesitates for a beat. “I have to ask, is there any chance you feel the same way?” he asks nervously. 

For a second she tries to fight the giant smile spreading across her face but it’s futile. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it,” she trills all casually, her nose up in the air. 

He grins and steps closer to her. “Now you say it,” he whispers against her ear. 

“No.” 

“Come on, I said it first.” 

“No!” 

“Alright, just say my name then.”

“Fine, Yong Qi. There.” 

“Hmm, say it again.” 

“You’re being ridiculous and weird- ” 

In one motion, he wraps her in his arms and shuts her up with a kiss, stealing those three words from the catches of her heart.